


Catch 22

by Formula_Tea



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Basically this isn't a happy story, Foster Care, Homophobic Language, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Drug Use, Past Underage Sex, Violence, Warnings May Change
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-22
Updated: 2015-04-13
Packaged: 2018-03-19 02:36:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 30
Words: 49,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3593157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Formula_Tea/pseuds/Formula_Tea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Turning eighteen, Valtteri Bottas is getting "kicked out" of the care system and has kindly (he guessed) been accepted to stay with someone on the Fresh Start Scheme. Felipe's a /little/ nervous about having the "at risk" young adult stay with him, even though it was his idea to join the scheme in the first place. The care workers tell him Valtteri's "easy enough" though, and the only thing he should have to worry about is his boyfriend. Easy enough. What happens when all the problems that had been over looked in the past come to light?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> And yes I cringed writing that summary.  
> The title Catch 22 comes from the name of a charity which would have run a scheme like the Fresh Start Scheme (though it's an entirely fictional scheme, as far as I'm aware). The Catch 22 charity work with at risk young people and is quite important to me.  
> http://www.catch-22.org.uk/  
> Both Valtteri and Felipe's stories are inspired by people very important to me.  
> This is not a happy story, but it will have some happy bits in it!

“Of course I’m ok.”

This was quite possibly the worst impression of ok Rob had ever seen, and he’d seen a lot. He knew better than to press the matter, though, smiling to himself as the drove them to the foster home. The smile didn’t go unnoticed by his passenger, though.

“Am not nervous,” Felipe insisted, glaring at Rob.

“It’ll be fine,” Rob insisted, trying not to laugh at the pout on Felipe’s face. “He’s probably as nervous as you.”

“Oh great,” Felipe muttered. “We will both be nervous and this is going to make things better?”

He’d met Valtteri a couple of times, with Rob and a care worker present. Valtteri didn’t seem that bad to him, but the teenager hadn’t spoken much. The care worker said he was like that with everyone, nothing to be concerned about.

“Don’t worry,” Rob said again, patting Felipe on the back as he stopped the car outside the home.

“I’m not worried,” Felipe muttered.

“Remember how nervous you were when you first came to stay with me?” Rob asked.

“Yes!” Felipe cried. “This is why I am nervous now!”

“Told you that you were nervous,” Rob said, proudly, climbing out the car with a triumphant grin.

Felipe just rolled his eyes, following Rob inside.

 

How hard could it be, to pack up your entire life? The first time he’d done it, Valtteri hadn’t known where to begin. At twelve, where do you begin? The social worker had tried to help, but he’d refused to let them in. Nobody was allowed in his room but him. But now it was different. Easy. He only woke a couple of hours before the Fresh Start workers were due to arrive, and he was packed up and sat in the kitchen when they arrived.

Here we go again.

Felipe and Rob were waiting for him in the hallway. Rob, in charge of the scheme, was all smiles, but Valtteri only glared back. They were all like that to begin with. They smiled and told him they wanted him but where was he two weeks later? Back here. Not this time, though. Now he was eighteen and there was no going back.

“How are you feeling?” Rob asked, and you would have thought someone in his line of work would have known what to say, but apparently not.

Valtteri shrugged. “Fine.”

Rob nodded. “Fine. That’s pretty good. A while lot better than Felipe’s feeling.”

Rob prodded Felipe on the back, pushing him forward to try to encourage him to speak.

“Hello,” Felipe said before bursting into a violent coughing fit.

“Well,” the social worker said. “Valtteri, do you want to go and get your bags?”

Valtteri looked between Felipe and Rob, then nodded, heading back up the stairs to his room for the last time.

“You really don’t have anything to worry about with Valtteri,” the social worker assured Felipe. “There’s a reason he’s given to new carers first. Really, the only thing you have to worry about is his boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend?” Felipe asked. “You did not mention this before.”

“Toto,” the social worked clarified. “He’s a good lad, we think. Some days Valtteri stayed the night there, doing whatever teenage boys do. He’s an older lad though, which is why we were a little concerned.”

“You are talking about Toto?” Valtteri asked, bringing the suitcase down the stairs.

“Yes,” the social worker said. “I just thought I would make Felipe aware of the situation.”

“Is it going to be a problem?” Valtteri asked, fixing a death stare on Felipe.

“Not at all,” Felipe said, trying to reply to the glare with a grin but failing.

“Right,” Valtteri said. He didn’t know if he believed him or not, but he didn’t have much choice but to go with him. If he was some homophobic prat, Valtteri would find somewhere else to stay. Toto would put him up. But this way he had a little money in his pocket and he wasn’t going to have to put up with Toto’s annoying friends.

“Is that everything?” the social worker asked, unsurprised when Valtteri nodded. He didn’t have a lot. There was a rucksack on his back that had everything the suitcase didn’t in it. “Right then. I guess this is goodbye, Valtteri. Remember we’re always here if you want to talk.”

The look on Valtteri’s face suggested he’d never wanted to talk to the social worker in his life, but she smiled anyway and helped him with his suitcase whilst Felipe and Rob led him outside.

“Is Rob’s car,” Felipe said, nodding towards the old, worn out car parked outside the home. “Do you want me to take your bag?”

“I can carry it myself,” Valtteri muttered, dumping it on the back seat before climbing in after it. Felipe turned to Rob in the hope of some help but Rob just grinned as his master plan came together.

Between Felipe and the social worker, Valtteri’s suitcase was put in the boot of Rob’s car, and Felipe nodded to the social worker before getting in the car himself. The woman stood on the pavement and watched Valtteri go, another child grown up and out of the care system.

Rob drove them, grinning like a mad man whilst his two passengers sat in silence. He was waiting for Felipe to start the conversation. He couldn’t do all the work, could he?

“So,” Felipe said, once the silence had stretched out for far too long. “You and Toto? You have been together for a while.”

“I guess,” Valtteri muttered. He didn’t see why Felipe needed to know anything about his personal life. It wasn’t as if he’d be caught dead bringing Toto over to meet him or anything. And it wasn’t as if Felipe was going to become a ‘friend’ either. He was Valtteri’s landlord and so called support system. He was not a friend.

“Well, that is good,” Felipe said when Valtteri didn’t say anything else. He looked up at Rob for help but got nothing. “Your room is pretty plain,” he continued, hoping to get a little more out of the Finn than what he already had. “I did not know what you would like and figured you are an adult now, so you can decorate it yourself if you want to.”

“Thanks,” Valtteri said. He didn’t mean it to sound so harsh, but that was the way it came out.

“Am sorry if I am a little nervous,” Felipe said, turning around in his chair to speak to Valtteri. “Is my first time doing something like this, you know? Well, is my first time doing this job, anyway.”

“Job?” Valtteri asked, his eyebrows raised slightly

“Yeah,” Felipe said. “Well, is not like a job. Is more like a role. I mean, have been in your position, before, so is not really my first time doing this. But is my first time doing _this_.”

Rob laughed at his friend’s nervousness, patting him on the back without taking his eyes off of the road. “He knows what you mean, sunshine. Don’t worry.”

“See?” Felipe said, laughing a little at himself. “Told you am nervous.”

He wanted to make Valtteri smile too, but the Finn just looked back at him with the same bored expression and Felipe got the impression none of his attempts were going to work.

Thankfully, the drive back to Felipe’s small house wasn’t long, and soon enough Rob pulled up outside the modest little house. Felipe and Rob got out straight away, Rob going to the boot of the car to get Valtteri’s suitcase out with Felipe stopping to open the door for Valtteri. Valtteri got out slowly, his eyes taking in the quiet little street. It was pretty familiar, almost all of the foster families he’d stayed with living in practically identical streets. It was the kind of place where people nodded to each other as they passed, where the neighbours didn’t exactly go out to talk to one another but knew each other well enough and would bring out the bins for one another on the off chance they forgot. Valtteri had stayed in places like this more times than he could count. He guessed it was supposed to feel comfortable, but it had never felt anything like home to him.

“This is us,” Felipe said. He led Rob – who was carrying Valtteri’s suitcase – up a short garden path and unlocked the door for him, before hurrying back to where Valtteri was waiting by the car. Valtteri didn’t look impressed. “Know it is not much, but it’s home.”

Valtteri nodded. Then his eyes fell onto the bike locked to Felipe’s fence. “Is that yours?”

“Yeah,” Felipe said, a little embarrassed.

“You don’t have a car?” Valtteri asked.

“No,” Felipe said. “I mean, I used to. But there was an accident. And now I don’t. But I have this to get around so…” He shrugged and smiled at Valtteri. “I survive.”

Valtteri didn’t say anything. It wasn’t as if he’d been hoping Felipe would be able to drive him around or anything anyway, so it didn’t really matter that he didn’t have a car.

“Right,” Rob said, coming back out of the house and rubbing his hands together. “Left your suitcase at the top of the stairs Valtteri. I have an appointment now so I better get going. You guys can get on alright?”

“Yeah,” Valtteri said, heading inside.

“You’re going to leave me alone?” Felipe asked, his eyes wide, slamming Rob’s car door shut when he tried to get in.

“You’ll be fine, Felipe,” Rob laughed, ruffling the shorter man’s hair a little. “You’ve gone through all the procedures. You’ve done what dozens of others have done and they were all fine. You can phone me if you have any trouble. But I really need to go.”

“Alright,” Felipe said, pouting a little. “But you better come if I do phone.”

“I will,” Rob laughed, getting in the car. “I’ll pop in tomorrow afternoon to see how you’re getting on, alright?”

“Thank you.”

“Good luck.”

The house was small on the inside too, Valtteri found. A small living room and an even smaller kitchen with a couple of stools pushed under one of the counters serving as a dining area made up the ground floor. Valtteri wondered around, his feet tapping loudly against the laminated floor. This wasn’t like any foster carer’s home he’d been in. It was clean, but not spotless. Felipe wasn’t trying to show off or prove anything.

Back in the hallway, the front door slammed shut and Valtteri found Felipe in there, stepping out of his shoes.

“Do you want me to…?”

“No, it’s fine,” Felipe said, smiling. “Am just not a huge fan of shoes, and is better to take them off here than to get them lost. Do you want me to show you your room?”

Valtteri figured he would let Felipe play his “role” as he had put it and let the Brazilian lead him up the stairs.

“This is your room,” he said, opening the door to the bedroom at the back of the house. “Know it is not very big, but is all I have.”

The room, like everything else, was small. The double bed took up most of the space and a lone chest of draws was crammed into the corner. The cream paint and pale sheets left the room looking bright and cheerful but, after spending a little more time with Valtteri, Felipe got the impression they wouldn’t stay that way for long.

“Right,” Felipe said, stepping back to let Valtteri bring his suitcase in. “I’m going to head down stairs. Come down when you’re ready and we can order take out or something. I don’t feel like cooking.”

“I’m going to Toto’s for dinner,” Valtteri said. “I don’t need looking after.”

“Sure,” Felipe said, slowly. “Will leave you to it then.”

He backed out of the room, shutting the door behind him. As soon as he was out of sight from Valtteri, he took a deep breath. He could do this. He wouldn’t be allowed to do it if Rob and the rest of the care workers he’d met with didn’t think he could do it.

Valtteri pressed down gently on the mattresses. He still wasn’t sure what that was supposed to do, but he’d learned to do it at each new “home” he was taken to. This was home now. Squeezing past the bed, Valtteri headed to the window at the back of the room, which gave him a nice view of an unkempt garden and an embankment, the top of which was obscured by bushes and brambles. Valtteri sighed and fell back onto the bed.

He should probably unpack. The last couple of years, he hadn’t even bothered unpacking when he’d arrived at a new home, knowing he would be gone again in only a few weeks’ time. This time, he really should. He didn’t have any other choice but to stay here. There was no safety net anymore. There were no social workers for if he decided he didn’t like Felipe. Or if Felipe decided he didn’t like him, as was normally the case. No, he was going to have to make this work.

He’d been given an allowance, a handful of notes that were supposed to be used to help him find work. The money was still shoved in the bottom of Valtteri’s pocket where he’d put it when it had been handed to him. He knew he should put it somewhere safe, but he also knew better than to leave money lying around and, until he found somewhere safe to put it, he needed to keep it on his person.

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Felipe – well, he _didn’t_ , but no more than he didn’t trust anybody else – but he knew better than to do stupid things like that. No matter how much everyone treated him like a kid, he was probably wiser than most of the people he met. He grew up looking after himself, and he was almost certain that their life experiences didn’t come close to teaching them what he’d learned. No, he didn’t _need_ Felipe. He needed his house, sure, and his food, but he didn’t need any fatherly advice or whatever he was supposed to provide.

Valtteri checked the time on his phone. It was late enough to go to Toto’s. He said he would still be another half an hour, not wanting to show up late if Felipe had insisted on doing something or the care home had wanted him to fill out another couple of dozen of forms, but if he walked from here he wouldn’t be _too_ early, he figured.

Felipe was in the kitchen making coffee when Valtteri came downstairs.

“I can make you some, if you like,” Felipe said Valtteri came in. “It’s only instant. Am not sure what you’re used to, but it’s not that bad. Brand name.”

“It’s ok,” Valtteri said. “I’m heading to Toto’s now.”

“Alright,” Felipe said, smiling. He’d been hoping they would be able to get to know each other a little better, now it was just the two of them. Valtteri could find out who he was living with. But he knew, when he’d first moved in with Rob, he would much rather have been out with his own friends. Actually, come to think of it, that probably wasn’t the kind of thing he should have been encouraging Valtteri to do. “There’s a set of keys on the coffee table in the front room for you. Do you know what time you will be back?”

“No. Does it matter?”

“No, no,” Felipe said. “Will see you… at some point, I guess.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should not be posting chapters so quickly but la la la la la la la

When Nico opened the door, Valtteri almost groaned. Almost. Nico grinned at him, his usual slimy smile, and stepped back to let him in, smacking his arse on the way past. Valtteri glared at him, wondering why he even bothered to hold his groan in.

Toto was in the living room, feet up on the table with the remainder of a bag of chips resting on his stomach. He grinned when Valtteri came in and Valtteri couldn’t help but smile sheepishly in return, no matter how annoyed he was.

“Thought it would be just us,” he said, weakly, as Nico slid past him into the kitchen.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Toto said, sitting up and patting the space next to him.

Unable to hold the grudge, Valtteri fell into the spot, letting Toto wrap one arm around him whilst the other found somewhere on the overcrowded coffee table to put the remainder of the chips.

“It’s just Nico, though,” Toto said, hugging him.

“And Lewis is coming later,” Nico called from the kitchen.

“Lewis too?” Valtteri asked, looking up at his boyfriend with a pout on his face. A pout he knew Toto couldn’t resist. The older man leaned down and kissed him, sucking on the protruding lip before nipping it gently and making Valtteri shiver.

“I’m sorry,” Toto said, again, pulling away. “I couldn’t really say no, could I?”

That would hurt his image, he’d explained to Valtteri a couple of times before. Valtteri didn’t know why his boyfriend cared so much about what the likes of Nico and Lewis thought of him, but it was important to Toto, so Valtteri couldn’t really argue with it.

“So, move in day number four hundred and twelve or whatever we’re in now,” Toto asked, letting Valtteri snuggle against him. “How did it go?”

“Alright, I suppose,” Valtteri said, his eyes on the TV that played, muted, in the background. “The guy seems nice enough.”

“A do gooder?”

“Yeah,” Valtteri said. “Pretty boring. Sounds like he’s from Mexico or something like that though.”

“You’ll have to introduce me at some point,” Toto laughed. “He knows about us?”

“Yeah,” Valtteri said. “He said he was alright about it. Didn’t do anything to stop me coming here.”

“You’re an adult now, Val,” Nico said, coming back into the room carrying three glasses of something clear. “You can do what you want.”

He set the glasses down, looking at them for a moment, deciding whose was whose before handing Valtteri and Toto a drink each and falling onto the sofa beside Valtteri with his own.

“Please do not call me that,” Valtteri said, looking down into his drink. “This had better not be water.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Nico laughed, draining his own small glass in one go.

Valtteri had had alcohol before. He’d had alcohol before he was allowed, strictly speaking. With Toto, and sometimes with his idiotic friends. At first, he’d tried to be a good little boy and refuse, but he’d soon grown tired of being laughed at and called the baby of the group. He had only been a couple of years off of legal drinking age when he’d started drinking. What more harm was it going to do when he was sixteen than when he was eighteen, he figured.

Not that he wasn’t a light weight. A disgrace to his Finnish heritage, as Nico liked to say.

Not wanting to be laughed at, he followed Nico’s lead and drank the drink in one go, trying not to show how much it burnt his mouth and throat.

“You don’t have to play up to him,” Toto murmured in his ear, drinking his own drink slower.

“I know,” Valtteri said. “Am fine.”

Valtteri relaxed against Toto, ignoring the fact that Nico was there and closing his eyes. Toto was the one person he trusted. The one person who had been there through everything. The two of them had been friends even as kids, before Valtteri’s dad had gone to prison and Valtteri had been shipped off to the foster homes. He was still, a fixed point. When Valtteri was being passed from pillar to post, he’d needed the normality, and Toto had been the one to give it to him. He was safe here.

The next drink that was placed in Valtteri’s hand, he drank slower, ignoring the comments from Nico.

“You’ll be drunk before Lewis even gets here,” Nico laughed when Valtteri finished the second glass, and he had to admit his face was beginning to feel a little warmer and he really shouldn’t have drunk the first drink so quickly.

“Leave him alone,” Toto said. His hand had slid down from Valtteri’s shoulder and was now resting gently at his side, his thumb tucked into the waist band of Valtteri’s jeans. Valtteri grinned up at him as Toto gently brushed his thumb back and forth over his hip, even if they couldn’t do anything whilst Nico and Lewis were there.

“So, this new carer of yours,” Nico asked, poking Valtteri with his foot when he didn’t look at him. “Is he one of you lot?”

“What?” Valtteri asked, confused.

“One of you lot?” Nico said again, gesturing at Valtteri and Toto again. “You know.”

“I don’t know,” Valtteri said, looking up at Toto to see if he had any idea.

“Like you,” Nico said again. “A faggot.”

“Hey,” Toto said, reaching his leg across Valtteri to kick Nico whilst Valtteri wriggled closer to him, his eyes closed. And Toto wondered why he didn’t like his friends

“I didn’t mean it in a nasty way or anything,” Nico said with a shrug. “Is he anyway?”

“Well I do not know,” Valtteri said. “Did not exactly sit down and have a little chat about his sex life. And he’s not a carer anyway. He’s just my landlord thing.”

Strictly speaking, that wasn’t what Felipe was either, because Valtteri didn’t have to pay any rent yet, but he couldn’t be bothered to explain it all to Nico anyway.

“You’re sure about that,” Nico asked, smirking. “He’s not been checked out, has he? Could be anyone. Could sneak into your room at night, creep into your bed whilst you’re fast asleep…”

“Nico,” Toto snapped, holding Valtteri closer.

Nico just laughed and, when the doorbell rang again, got up to answer it with another kick from Toto.

“Ignore him,” Toto said gently before kissing the top of Valtteri’s head.

“I always do,” Valtteri said. “If… if he isn’t alright and I do have to leave, I can come and stay with you, can’t I?”

“Of course you can,” Toto said. “I don’t know why you’ve not moved in already. You know I’d love to have you.”

“Know this,” Valtteri said. “But this way they help me get a job and all that shit. And do not have to put up with those idiots.”

“Lewis!”

Toto laughed when Valtteri groaned and lifted the Finn’s chin so he could kiss him again.

“Oh, get a room you two,” Lewis laughed, falling into Nico’s seat whilst the German took the arm chair.

“Is his house,” Valtteri pointed out. “Will kiss me where he wants to.”

“You got here before Valtteri got wasted,” Nico said. “Must be a record for you, Lewis. More drinks.”

“Whatever,” Toto said, smiling at his boyfriend’s defiance. He wouldn’t have had the guts to say that when they first started going out seriously, and it always felt like a triumph when he managed to get Valtteri to speak up for himself.

“I’ll help,” Lewis suggested, getting up to follow Nico into the kitchen and leaving the pair of them alone.

“How far do you live now then?” Toto asked.

“About half an hour’s walk,” Valtteri said. “Not far. Asked me where I wanted to be. Said I wanted to be close to you.”

He smiled up at him, leaning back so his head was resting on Toto’s chest. Toto just grinned down at him.

“You are a soppy idiot, aren’t you?”

“Think the word is romantic,” Valtteri said, grinning.

“I think the word is drunk,” Toto laughed.

“Am not drunk,” Valtteri said in mock seriousness. And he really wasn’t. He got a feeling there should be a “yet” on the end of the sentence, because he’d seen the grins Lewis and Nico had shared as they went into the kitchen. Watching the “little kid” puke up his guts seemed like good entertainment to them. But there was no way he was going to become any less of a light weight if he refused to drink.

“Do not know how romantic I can be with those idiots here, though,” Valtteri said.

“I know,” Toto said, knowing how annoying Valtteri was. “But Nico showed up and said Lewis was coming over and there wasn’t much I could do. I’m sorry. Next time it will be just us, I promise.”

“You said that about this time,” Valtteri said, whining a little. He knew he was being annoying, but he’d lost count of the amount of times Toto had told him it was just going to be the two of them and then Nico or Lewis or someone else had shown up.

“I’m really sorry,” was all Toto could say. “But I can’t turn them away. What if I’d turned you away, hey?”

“I guess,” Valtteri said, still a little annoyed.

“Come here,” Toto said, pulling Valtteri onto his lap. “I love you.”

“Love you too.”

“Here you go Valtteri,” Lewis said, over dramatically pushing a glass into the Finn’s hands. Valtteri wouldn’t be surprised if he were already drunk. He peered into the glass as he had done when Nico had handed him his first drink, but it was just a clear liquid. Nothing to be suspicious about.

Lewis and Nico were laughing again.

Valtteri rolled his eyes and downed the entire glass.

“Be careful,” Toto said, taking the glass from him. “I thought you were ignoring them.”

“Am ignoring them,” Valtteri said. “Did not say I was not going to drink though, did I?”

“No,” Toto admitted. “But you have to be careful.”

“I’m an adult now,” Valtteri said, repeating someone’s – he couldn’t remember whose – words from earlier. “I can do what I like.”

“Of course you can,” Toto said. “But let’s not pickle yourself, hey?”

 


	3. Chapter 3

Valtteri was woken by a dull throbbing in his… everywhere, it felt like, and the gentle strokes of someone’s breath against his face. He screwed his eyes shut, trying to figure out where the pain was coming from. His head. His arse. His entire back. Fuck, His memories of last night were blurry at best. He remembered drinking, being told he shouldn’t drink so much, drinking some more, then there was nothing.

How could he have gotten that drunk _again_?

Slowly, he opened his eyes, but his head didn’t agree with that and he shut them again quickly, groaning a little, but not before he caught sight of whose breath was dancing across his face. It took his brain a couple of seconds to realise, preoccupied with scolding him for being so stupid, then he opened his eyes again, ignoring how much it hurt his head.

Nico?

Valtteri jerked back, surprised, only to find another body behind him. He spun around quickly, slightly relieved to find it was Toto. Less relieved to see he’d woken his boyfriend up.

Valtteri sat up, slowly, something his head didn’t agree with, or his back, or his arse. Toto placed a hand on his bare chest, trying to ease him back down so he could go back to sleep, and Valtteri would have agreed with him if it weren’t for two things: the fact that Nico was in the bed, and the fact that he wasn’t wearing any clothes.

He definitely did not remember taking his clothes off last night.

“Toto?” he whispered, more worried about the pain in his head than waking Nico up. “Toto?”

“Go to sleep,” Toto mumbled, his hand falling off of Valtteri’s chest.

“Toto, where are my clothes?” he asked, trying not to sound as frightened as he was. That was just what he needed: Nico to hear him getting scared over nothing and making fun about that as well.

“You threw up on them,” Nico grumbled, clearly annoyed he’d been woken up. “You would know that if you weren’t such a light weight. We threw them in the wash. They’re on the chair.”

Valtteri sat up properly, still wincing, and looked around Toto’s bedroom. His clothes were in a neat pile on the chair by the window. Nothing to worry about.

“You were passed out before they were dry,” Nico said, rolling out of the bed. He rubbed his eyes, then brought a hand through his hair. “We did not think it would be that important. This was after you fell down the stairs, by the way. I imagine you will be getting some impressive bruises later, in case you start wondering where they came from.”

Well, that explained his back.

“I’m sorry,” Valtteri said, colour and heat rushing to his cheeks. He couldn’t believe he’d gotten that drunk. Well, he _could_. He always did. And, like he always did, he vowed to not do anything so stupid again.

“Yeah, I know,” Nico said, smiling as he threw over Valtteri’s underwear and top. “We all do stupid things when we’re drunk.”

“Him more than anyone,” Toto mumbled, still trying to get back to sleep.

Valtteri did his best at getting dressed without disturbing Toto, causing himself too much added pain, or letting the bed clothes reveal too much, though he figured Nico had seen more than he would rather have seen last night.

“Hey?” he said, watching Nico shove his hands into Valtteri’s jean pockets and pull out the money. “That’s mine.”

“I don’t think so,” Nico said, pocketing the money. “The amount you drank last night.”

“I couldn’t have drunk that much,” Valtteri said, easing himself out of the bed. “Give it back. You can’t just take it. It’s all I’ve got.”

“You’ve no idea how much you drunk last night,” Nico teased. “And every other night you’ve come and contributed nothing. It’s about time you paid something.”

“That is all I have,” Valtteri said, snatching his jeans away from Nico.

“Then you better start earning then, hadn’t you?” the German said.

Valtteri turned to Toto, tears in his eyes. He couldn’t just do this. It wasn’t _fair_. He hadn’t even known Nico and Lewis were going to show up, anyway. How was it his fault how much he had drunk? Toto just sighed, finally giving up on going back to sleep.

“Come on, Val, you’re going to have to take some responsibility at some point,” Toto said with a small shrug.

“Some responsibility?” Valtteri said, almost choking a little as he said it. “I never meant to drink that much.”

“And I never meant to get caught taking biscuits from the biscuit tin when I was six,” Nico said. “But you have to take responsibility for your own actions, like your boyfriend said. You’re a grown up now.”

“Come here,” Toto said with a small smile, able to see how upset Valtteri was. He patted the spot next to him on the bed and Valtteri crawled into it, letting Toto hug him. “Do you want me to drive you back to yours? I do not like the thought of you walking after that fall down the stairs.”

“Please,” Valtteri mumbled. He had his eyes closed, and shuddered when he felt Toto pull away from him.

“Let me go to the toilet, then I will take you, alright?”

Valtteri opened his eyes to watch Toto leave the room, leaving him alone with a smirking Nico. Once the door was shut, Valtteri glared at the German, not bothering to wipe his now wet cheeks.

“What were you doing in the bed anyway?” he asked.

“Lewis had the sofa, and I didn’t feel like sleeping on the floor,” Nico said. “You didn’t seem to mind when you were passed out.”

“And you performed your sacred ‘no homo’ ritual beforehand, I guess,” Valtteri spat.

Nico’s smirk only grew. “Something like that, I guess.”

 

Valtteri fell into the passenger seat of Toto’s car, just glad to be away from Nico and Lewis. He was still angry about the money, and the fact Toto hadn’t stuck up for him, but right now all he wanted was a nice hot shower and to go back to bed.

Toto smiled at him when he got into the car, resting a hand on Valtteri’s knee.

“I really am sorry,” he said.

Valtteri crossed his arms. Sometimes it felt like all Toto said was sorry.

“What am I supposed to tell Felipe about the money?” Valtteri said, refusing to look at Toto. That money was supposed to be for going off and finding a way of supporting himself, and he’d lost it getting drunk.

“Don’t tell him,” Toto said. “He’s not your carer. He doesn’t need to know about it. And if you need anything, I’ll help out. That’s what I’m here for.”

“Thank you,” Valtteri said quietly, holding Toto’s hand and giving it a small squeeze.

Toto squeezed back before taking his hand away and starting the car. “What’s the address?”

 

“He’ll be fine. He’s a teenage boy, Felipe. Don’t you remember what you were like?”

“Yes,” Felipe snapped. “That is why I am worried.”

He couldn’t believe Rob was being so relaxed about this. Valtteri – an at risk kid with an older boyfriend – hadn’t come back last night. He could have been _anywhere_ doing _anything_ with _anyone_ and Felipe was supposed to be making sure that didn’t happen. He knew he shouldn’t have let him out last night, not that there was much he could have done to stop him. But he should have insisted they had that quiet night in. Then maybe he could have convinced Valtteri to trust him a little and listen to his advice. It was the first night and he had already screwed up.

“Valtteri’s a smart kid,” Rob said, laughing down the phone. “He’ll have gone to his boyfriend’s, stayed the night, and come back in last night’s clothes any minute now.”

“And if he does not?” Felipe asked. “If his boyfriend is a murderer and they never find Valtteri’s body? What then?”

Rob laughed again which only made Felipe even more frustrated. This wasn’t funny. For all they knew, this Toto _could_ have been a murderer. They knew absolutely nothing about him, only that he was older and that should have meant screaming alarm bells for Rob as it did for Felipe, but Rob was just laughing.

“Felipe, baby, stay cool.”

“Do not start that again,” Felipe warned, deadly serious.

“Alright,” Rob laughed. “Look, if he isn’t back in an hour, phone me again and I’ll see if that social worker has Toto’s address.”

“He could be dead in an hour,” Felipe said.

“He could be dead now,” Rob pointed out. “And if he isn’t dead now, I don’t think he’s going to be dead in an hour’s time. I’ll speak to you later, alright?”

“No, Rob it is not alright. Rob? Rob!”

It was too late, he’d already hung up. Felipe sighed and rubbed his eyes. Maybe another cup of coffee would calm him down. He’d barely slept all night, worrying about Valtteri. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. Maybe he shouldn’t have been allowed to do this.

The front door slammed shut, making Felipe jump, and he rushed into the front hall to find Valtteri marching up the stairs.

“Good morning,” he called after him, trying to sound cheerful. He wasn’t dead then. That was a relief.

Valtteri didn’t reply, and Felipe followed him up the stairs, only for Valtteri to slam the bathroom door shut. Moments later, the sound of spraying water could be heard through the door. Felipe sighed, looking up at the switch for the shower and wondering if he should flick it on for the kid. No, Valtteri would figure it out soon enough. He headed back down the stairs. The kettle should have boiled by now.

 

“Your shower is shit,” Valtteri said, coming into the kitchen. His hair was still wet, plastered down onto his head, and his teeth chattered from the cold water.

“Is not that bad,” Felipe said, leaning against the counter top. “Am afraid I don’t have much in for breakfast. You can have fruit. Or toast. Or just coffee, if you want.”

“The water isn’t warm,” Valtteri said.

“Is,” Felipe said. “Have to switch it on outside to make the water heat up. Would have known that if you stopped to speak to me, you know.”

“That’s stupid,” Valtteri said.

“Yeah, but it is what I have,” Felipe said, pushing himself off of the counter. “What would you like for breakfast?”

“Just coffee, please,” Valtteri said. He was still aching from the fall down stairs the night before and the freezing cold shower hadn’t helped much.

“So,” Felipe said, putting the kettle on to boil. “You had fun at Toto’s then.”

“Was alright,” Valtteri said. He really didn’t want to get into this conversation. He didn’t want to get into any conversation with Felipe if he were honest. He was being unbelievably calm about it all, Valtteri had to admit. Usually his carer would have sat him down by now with a cup of tea and a pack of biscuits and tried to explain the dangers of dating an older boy whilst Valtteri tried to tell them Toto _wasn’t_ like that. But that didn’t mean anything. Felipe was still one of them. He was just trying some stupid new approach.

“That’s good,” Felipe said. “Was wondering if you wanted to go to the job centre today. I could go with you, if you wanted. Took the day of work to help you if you needed it. Sign on?”

“I can do it myself thanks,” Valtteri said, coldly. He doesn’t need Felipe to go with him.

“Alright then,” Felipe said, smiling. “How do you have your coffee?”

“Black with no sugar,” Valtteri said.

“Well, that is easy then,” Felipe said with a laugh, only for Valtteri to glare back. Felipe didn’t seem to notice, making the drink for the teenager. “Are you going to do that today, or…?”

“I’m going back to bed,” Valtteri said, taking the mug from Felipe and marching back up the stairs with it before Felipe could point out the uselessness of having coffee before trying to go to sleep.

Well, at least he knew where he was now.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> http://www.theguardian.com/society/2008/may/07/prisonsandprobation.prevention  
> Part of the inspiration for Catch 22.

“I am making lasagne for dinner,” Felipe said when Valtteri came back down the stairs in the middle of the afternoon. “Is very good, even if I do say so myself. Was not sure what you would like. If you want to request anything for next week, let me know and I will give it a go. Am actually not that bad a cook.”

“I’m not hungry,” Valtteri said, even though he hadn’t eaten since lunch the day before.

“Maybe you will be hungry later, no?” Felipe said, smiling.

“Maybe,” Valtteri said. He fell onto the sofa, deciding if whatever Felipe was watching on the TV was worth staying down here for. There wasn’t really much he could do upstairs, having already unpacked all his things. Toto was working, so there was nowhere else he could go either, besides the job centre, but he figured he would do that tomorrow, when it wasn’t so late.

“They are looking for cleaning staff at the hotel opposite the restaurant I work at,” Felipe offered, hopefully. “I can get the details for them, if you want.”

“Thanks,” Valtteri said with a weak smile, and it was the most happiness Felipe had ever seen the Finn offer. He beamed back.

“Will do it tomorrow for you, before work,” he said, a little too enthusiastically.

He grinned, but Valtteri didn’t seem to be paying attention anymore, watching the television again. Felipe didn’t stop smiling, though. They were in the same room. That was making progress, right?

“Is there anything you want to do?” he asked, figuring he was supposed to make conversation. “Job wise, I mean.”

Valtteri shook his head. There was nothing he really saw himself doing.

“That’s alright,” Felipe said. “Are just looking for a job now, right? Not a career.”

Valtteri didn’t react and Felipe’s smile fell a little.

“Yeah,” he said, continuing the monologue. “I always wanted to be a chef, you know? But is not such an easy thing to get into without any training or anything. Rob tried to get me some training but it did not really work out so well. So now I wait tables, and the guys in the kitchen show me some things when it isn’t busy. Maybe one day I will go back and do the training, hey? Do you want to do anything like that?”

“Not really,” Valtteri said, still not looking away from the television.

“You know a conversation is best when there are two people in it,” Felipe pointed out.

“Is that what you’re doing this for?” Valtteri asked, turning away from the television. “Companionship?”

“No,” Felipe said, a little confused at the smirk on Valtteri’s face. “Wanted to help.”

“You get paid to do this, don’t you?” Valtteri said.

“No,” Felipe said again. “Well, the charity pays your rent until you can and helped me get a house with another bedroom, but none of the money went to me.”

“Then why are you doing it?” Valtteri asked. He didn’t see the point. There were only two reasons he would ever let a stranger’s child into his house: if he was genuinely bored and lonely (and he didn’t see that happening any time soon) or if he was getting paid for it.

Felipe smiled. This was a conversation. “Because someone did it to me, and I wanted to return the favour. Would have been a foster carer, but is not possible when you have been to prison, so this is the next best thing. Or the better thing, depending on how you look at it.”

“You’ve been to prison?” Valtteri asked. Nico was right. They really hadn’t checked this guy out. “You don’t look like the type.”

“I will take that as a compliment,” Felipe said.

“So, what were you?” Valtteri asked, curiously. “Some Mexican drugs lord?”

“Am not _Mexican_ ,” Felipe said. “Am from Brazil. And yeah, it was drugs. Not that I sold any, mind you. Just took them. Don’t worry, I’m clean now.”

He grinned, proud of his own accomplishment. Never mind the fact he’d only gotten clean so that he could become a dealer (not that he’d ever made it that far).

“And they still let you do something like this?” Valtteri asked.

“Yeah,” Felipe said. “Do not worry. Have done dozens of checks and everything. Have not touched drugs in years.”

He couldn’t tell if that had put Valtteri at ease or not, the Finn’s face staying blank the entire time.

“I’m going to get started on the lasagne,” Felipe said, pushing himself out of his chair. “You can help, if you want.”

“I’m not a child,” Valtteri said.

“I know you’re not,” Felipe said. “Just thought it might be less boring than this TV programme.”

“I’m fine thanks.”

 

“Well, you’re alive. I guess that’s a positive.”

Rob sounded cheerful over the phone. He had no right to sound so cheerful and, as Felipe pushed himself up onto one of the stools to speak to him, he considered telling Rob Valtteri’s boyfriend had indeed murdered him and he was now in possession of a dead body. He decided against it.

“I’m alive,” he said.

“And Valtteri’s alive?”

“Yes, Valtteri is alive too,” Felipe said.

“When did he come back then?” Rob asked.

“About ten minutes after you hung up,” Felipe admitted, closing his eyes when Rob laughed at him.

“Told you so.”

“Asshole.”

“Anyway, how are things?” Rob asked. “Have you managed to speak to him?”

“A little,” Felipe said. “I told him about the cleaning job at the hotel. That went ok, I guess. He has not said that much. Rob, I don’t think…”

“Don’t start,” Rob said. “Felipe, you were born to do this kind of thing.”

“He has barely spoken to me,” Felipe said.

“And you hardly ever spoke to me to begin with, did you?” Rob said. “And look how that turned out. You’re a perfectly capable young man with your head screwed on most of the time. Just because Valtteri isn’t speaking to you, doesn’t mean you’re failing.”

“I guess,” Felipe muttered, unimpressed by the answer.

“Have you spoken to him about signing on?” Rob asked.

“Yeah, or tried to,” Felipe said. “He said he’s going to do it tomorrow. He doesn’t want me to come with him.”

“That’s fine,” Rob said. “You don’t need to, do you? Look, Valtteri’s a smart kid. He’s not going to want his hand holding every step of the way. You just need to be there for if he _does_ want to hold your hand.”

“But how am I supposed to know when he does want me to if he never says?” Felipe asked. “You always knew.”

“And you will too, sunshine,” Rob said, gently. “What are you doing now?”

“Making dinner,” Felipe said. “What if he doesn’t eat it?”

“Then he doesn’t eat it,” Rob said. “He’s hardly going to be on hunger strike is he? He’ll eat when he wants to eat, Felipe. You don’t need to fuss over him.”

“I know, but…” Felipe sighed. “Rob?”

“Yeah?”

“You really think I can do this?” Felipe asked, quietly.

“I’ve never doubted you before, and I’m not about to start,” Rob said.

 

 _“You always knew_.”

Valtteri _wasn’t_ eavesdropping. He was just… standing close enough to the door to hear the conversation. And not letting Felipe know. Ok, he _was_ eavesdropping, but he hadn’t meant to.

_“Making dinner. What if he doesn’t eat it?... I know but… Rob?”_

Rob? Rob had been his carer? Or whatever it was Felipe was supposed to be, anyway.

_“I’ll see you later then… You know what I mean… And you will answer?... Alright then. Bye…”_

Valtteri waited until he heard the clattering of dinner preparation before going into the kitchen. Felipe seemed distracted by checking on his cooking, not noticing Valtteri had come in until he stood up.

“Are you hungry yet?” he asked.

“A little,” Valtteri asked, though his stomach rumbling gave away his true answer. He smiled, sheepishly, and pulled out one of the stools to sit down.

“Don’t worry,” Felipe said. “It will taste good. Another ten minutes and it will be done.”

“Who was on the phone?” Valtteri asked.

“Just Rob,” Felipe said, sitting on the counter top again. “You know, from the scheme? He was just making sure everything was ok. That I did not burn down the house or anything. All good though, I told him. It is… everything is ok for you? Because if it isn’t then you can tell me, you know? Can try to change things if you are uncomfortable or anything.”

Valtteri thought. No, he wasn’t happy here. No less happy than he was anywhere else, but he wasn’t exactly _comfortable_ , as Felipe put it. But he guessed that was something to do with him, rather than the house. There was nothing Felipe could do to change that.

“I’m fine,” he said, eventually. “Maybe you could try not bothering me so much.”

Felipe laughed. “I will try, ok?” he said. “I am just trying to make sure you are ok. I worry, you know. Know what it is like to be in your position.”

“No you don’t,” Valtteri said, the smile that had been on his face gone in an instant.

“Sorry,” Felipe said, realising he had said something wrong.

“You haven’t been in my position,” Valtteri said. “I followed the rules. I did everything I was told to do. I was as perfect a child as I could be and I was _still_ thrown away by everyone. You were a drug addict who got put on something like this because it’s cheaper than you going to prison every other month. You haven’t been in my position.”

He marched back up the stairs, slamming his bedroom door shut.

Felipe winced. He’d been so close and he ruined it _again_.

 

Toto still wasn’t answering his texts. Valtteri new better than to bombard his boyfriend with messages, not least of all because he was going to run out of credit and now he didn’t have any money to top up with. Valtteri sighed, falling back on his bed. Bored. And hungry.

There was a knock at his door and he looked over from the ceiling to the closed door.

“Come in.”

He didn’t want to speak to Felipe. He didn’t want to pet the Brazilian’s ego and tell him how good a person he was for letting him stay. He wanted food and to speak to Toto.

Felipe pushed the door open with his back, the dish of lasagne in his hands. He smiled down at Valtteri, then realised he’d forgotten the plates and groaned.

“We can eat it from the dish, if you want,” he said, showing Valtteri the food.

It _did_ look good. Valtteri sighed and sat up, letting Felipe sit down opposite him with the lasagne between them.

“I’m sorry,” Felipe said, handing Valtteri a fork and digging into the dish himself. “I did not mean to say… to say I have lived your life. Just meant, I have been in a stranger’s home, you know?”

“It was Rob, wasn’t it?” Valtteri said, looking down at the food he hadn’t touched yet.

“Yeah,” Felipe admitted. “He found me when I was recovering, thought this was a good idea. It worked. He was right. He’s right about a lot of things.”

“Are you and him…?” Valtteri asked, waving his fork about as if it would hit the right word.

Felipe looked up with his own fork in his mouth, waiting for Valtteri to finish. Then he figured out what the Finn was trying to say.

He swallowed his food quickly.

“No,” he said. “God, no. It’s wrong.”

“Oh,” Valtteri said, the tops of his cheeks beginning to grow pink. “Sorry.”

“Is fine,” Felipe said. “Is not that I’m… _against_ it, you know. Guys, I mean. But is not right when he is my boss, you know?”

“Oh, right.”

“But he is a very good friend,” Felipe explained. He’d covered that well enough. Probably. “Think I can hear your stomach rumbling from here. Dig in.”

Valtteri smiled, not sure what to make of the short conversation, but dug his fork into the food anyway.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did this chapter kill me? Yes. Am I going to post it anyway?

“So?”

Felipe looked up at his co-worker, a girl whose brother worked in the kitchen. She grinned at back at him and Felipe went back to fiddling with the menus.

“He’s all moved in, Cathy,” he said. “Everything went ok.”

He knew what she was waiting for. She’d been complaining about her lack of a “special someone” since Felipe mentioned that Valtteri was going to be moving in with him.

“That’s good,” Cathy said, folding napkins into delicate works of art. “Has he settled in ok?”

“I think so,” Felipe said.

Valtteri had been a little more responsive today than the day before. Felipe guessed the fact he’d actually been able to work the shower in the morning had helped. Felipe’d offered again to go with Valtteri to the job centre, but Valtteri had refused and Felipe had to trust him to be able to go on his own.

“Maybe I should-.”

“He has a boyfriend, Cathy,” Felipe said, grinning.

“Oh,” Cathy said, a little frown falling on her face. Her fingers stilled for a moment before she finished folding the napkin.

“Do not think he is your type anyway,” Felipe said. “Is too quiet for you.”

“What makes you think I don’t like quiet?” Cathy asked.

“You hang out with me, don’t you?” Felipe pointed out, getting a napkin swan in the face for his effort.

“Maybe you could invite him to Jason’s birthday drinks this weekend,” Cathy said. “Help him make friends.”

“Am pretty sure he has friends of his own,” Felipe said, although he knew Cathy was just trying to get anyone to come with her on her brother’s birthday. He wasn’t the most popular man in the restaurant. Felipe already been dragged into going, much to his annoyance. He didn’t think Valtteri would thank him for bringing him along too. “Will ask him, ok?”

“Thank you,” Cathy said, grinning. “Maybe he can bring his boyfriend.”

“Your brother is going to have a lot of people he does not know at his birthday drinks,” Felipe pointed out.

“Good,” Cathy said. “All the people he does know don’t like him.”

 

“Maybe you could…” Valtteri lay on his stomach on his bed, his phone to his ear again. He wasn’t sure if he should suggest it. It had never been allowed before, so he’d never even made the suggestion. Now it was, he didn’t know if Toto would find it flattering or annoying. “Maybe you could come here.”

“To yours?” Toto asked, the surprise clear in his voice.

Valtteri’s heart sank. “Yeah. I’m sorry. It’s a stupid idea. I just thought… never mind.”

“No, calm down,” Toto laughed. “I don’t think it’s a stupid idea. Just a surprise, that’s all. What would Felipe say?”

“Felipe’s at work,” Valtteri said. “Do not know what time he will be back, but figured it would be late.”

He was really doing this. He was making plans for his boyfriend to come to somewhere he _lived_. Maybe they could do it this way round more often, where they would be much less likely to be joined by unwanted guests.

“Are you sure?” Toto asked.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Valtteri said. Maybe he wasn’t really doing this. Maybe he was sounding like a stupid teenager and getting excited about the possibility of being treated like an adult.

“Of course I want to,” Toto said. “Should I come round now?”

“Yeah,” Valtteri said, a little too quickly. “I mean, I’ve got the house to myself, so, if you want…”

Toto laughed and Valtteri was glad his boyfriend wasn’t there already to see how much he blushed. He grinned to himself, the sound of Toto laughing always making him smile.

“I’ll come over,” he said. “See you soon.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Toto hung up first – he always hung up first – and Valtteri pulled the phone away from his ear to disconnect the call. He wasn’t exactly prepared to have guests round, he realised. He had no food in, as far as he knew, and Felipe had left the last of the lasagne in the fridge for him if he didn’t feel like cooking but it wouldn’t be enough for Toto as well.

Toto’s house was nice, not exactly luxurious but much better than this place, and Valtteri got the feeling there was no way he would be coming round here very often when his other option, staying at home, seemed so much nicer.

Panicking a little, Valtteri rolled off his bed and scrambled down the stairs. He needed this place to look _good_ or else they were going to be stuck at Toto’s with Nico and Lewis forever.

There was little he could do about the house though. It was what it was and Valtteri had only just begun to tidy up a little when Toto knocked on the door.

Preying this wasn’t going to be a huge mistake, Valtteri answered it.

“Hey.”

“What’s wrong?” Toto asked before he even set foot in the house. The worry was clear on Valtteri’s face as he let Toto inside, closing the door behind him. “Is Felipe back? I can go if you want me to, it’s fine.”

“No,” Valtteri said. “Stay. Nothing’s wrong.”

He took hold of his boyfriend’s hand, trying to smile and pretend there really was nothing wrong. Valtteri led Toto up the stairs, Toto laughing a little as he did so.

“You’re sure there’s nothing wrong?” Toto asked, letting Valtteri pull him into his room. “This is cosy, isn’t it?”

His squashed, tiny bedroom was nothing like Toto’s and Valtteri couldn’t help his stomach turning when grinned at it.

“We can go to yours, if you would prefer,” Valtteri said, weakly, shutting the door behind him. It only made the room seem even smaller.

“I said it was cosy,” Toto said, sitting down on the bed and reaching out for Valtteri’s hand. “I never said that was a bad thing.”

 

The evening rush was just beginning to die down and Felipe ducked out of the dining room a couple of hours earlier than his shift usually finished. Cathy watched him go, confused, then followed him out into the break room.

“Are you alright?” she asked, shutting the door behind her.

“Yeah,” Felipe insisted, untying the apron from around his waist. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You’re leaving?” Cathy asked.

“I’m finishing early,” Felipe said, laughing at Cathy’s confusion. “It’s ok. I cleared it with the boss. I just do not want to leave Valtteri alone so soon.”

“I thought you said he was an adult,” Cathy said, her hands on her hips.

“He is,” Felipe said. “Does not mean he will not want company.”

“I thought you said he had a boyfriend,” Cathy said, annoyed that her co-worker got to go home early when she’d been trying to get time off for months, and after already having two days off.

“He does,” Felipe said. “Cathy, he lives with me and he knows nothing about me. Thought it would be a good idea to spend some more time with him, you know?”

“I suppose,” Cathy said. She was going to have to start working for this charity if it could get her time off of work every once in a while. “But you are going to invite him to Jason’s do, right?”

“I will invite him to Jason’s do,” Felipe assured her. He figured that would give him an excuse to leave early, at least.

 

Valtteri still got a buzz of excitement when Toto kissed him, when he sat on Toto’s lap with his fingers in the older man’s hair and Toto’s hands on his hips and his tongue in Valtteri’s mouth. He shouldn’t have been blushing as much as he was. His heart shouldn’t have been rushing so much at something so innocent.

They’d had sex before, a couple of times, always at Toto’s house of course. They never even did anything like _this_ at wherever Valtteri was calling home at the time. Toto had only stepped foot in those places on a few occasions. So the idea that someone – an adult – could come in at any moment… the _thrill_ …

Valtteri let out a small whimper against Toto’s mouth, his hands tugging on the older man’s t-shirt. Toto pulled away from him, breaking the kiss, and Valtteri opened his eyes. He hadn’t even realised he’d closed them.

“Are you sure?” he asked, and he always sounded so nervous when Valtteri tried to start things.

Valtteri nodded.

“Do you have the things?” Toto asked.

Valtteri nodded again, pushing himself off of Toto and reaching over to the backpack at the end of the bed. Toto grinned when he returned back to his lap, lube and condoms in hand.

“You’re such a good boy,” Toto said, sliding his hands up Valtteri’s back and pulling the Finn’s shirt over his head. “I don’t deserve you,” Toto mumbled, pressing gentle kisses onto Valtteri’s neck before sucking at a spot he knew made the Finn melt.

“Is me who doesn’t deserve you,” Valtteri mumbled, shuddering when he felt Toto’s teeth scrape against his neck.

Down stairs, the front door slammed shut, the panes of glass shaking with force.

“Fuck.”

Valtteri tried not to panic as he pushed himself off of his boyfriend, but the footsteps on the stairs didn’t help.

Toto just laughed at him. “You’ve done nothing wrong,” he reminded him, throwing Valtteri his shirt.

Valtteri pulled it on quickly, still panicking. There was no way Felipe wouldn’t figure out what they had been doing, or about to do.

Felipe knocked on the door, gently.

“Come in,” Toto called before Valtteri could say anything, smoothing down his own hair.

Valtteri was pretty sure he was the colour of a strawberry when Felipe opened the bedroom door, but somehow he could feel himself going redder.

“I got the-,” Felipe stopped, his eyes falling on Toto on the bed. Toto smiled.

“I’m Toto,” he said, offering a hand to shake. “Valtteri’s boyfriend.”

Felipe was frozen, looking between Valtteri and Toto, the colour draining from his own face whilst Valtteri’s only went redder.

“Yes,” he managed to say eventually, swallowing the lump in his throat. He took Toto’s hand and shook it weakly. “Valtteri has said. Felipe.”

“You got the…?” Toto prompted, still smiling. “You said you had something. For Valtteri I guess?”

“I… I’ll tell you about it later,” Felipe said, backing out of the room and closing the door behind him.

Toto grinned and turned to Valtteri. “That wasn’t so bad.”


	6. Chapter 6

“I met Toto today,” Felipe said, quietly. He was sat on the kitchen counter again, his legs swinging gently and the phone stuck to his ear.

“And you’re still alive?” Rob asked in mock shock. “It’s almost as if he’s not a murderer or anything.”

“Ha ha,” Felipe muttered, rolling his eyes. “Nearly walked in on them…”

He nodded, as if Rob would be able to see him. He seemed to get the picture anyway.

“They were…”

Felipe could imagine Rob nodding too.

“No,” Felipe said. “Think they were about to. Is that alright? Am I allowed to let that happen?”

“There’s nothing wrong with it, I guess,” Rob said. “As long as Valtteri’s happy and this Toto is happy. I’d recommend you not going in there and watching though. It might make one or two of the parties uncomfortable.”

“Was not planning on it,” Felipe said. “Valtteri seemed happy. Embarrassed, but think that was more because I walked in. Toto seemed… ok, I guess.”

He definitely didn’t come across as a murderer, which had to work for him. He didn’t seem like any of the people Felipe had been imagining either, not anything like the people Rob had been keeping him away from when he was in Valtteri’s position. Maybe he really didn’t have anything to worry about.

“Good,” Rob said. “So, you sat down and had a nice chat then?”

“No,” Felipe said. He’d just wanted to get out of the room as soon as possible and shut his head in the oven.

“Didn’t think so,” Rob laughed. “So, everything ok then? Nothing bad to report?”

“Not yet, no,” Felipe said.

“Enough of this ‘yet’,” Rob said. “You’re doing fine. You have nothing to worry about.”  


Valtteri didn’t _sneak_ Toto out of the house. He just thought it would be better if Felipe didn’t see his boyfriend leaving. He really did not want another awkward conversation. He didn’t think he could survive another one today.

He knew he was going to have to go and talk to Felipe. He’d have the “not in my house” lecture or the “make sure you’re being safe” lecture or something else along those lines and Valtteri probably wouldn’t have minded so much if they’d actually _done_ something, but they hadn’t. Toto had spent the last half an hour trying to calm him down and bring his face a couple of shades of red paler.

He was an adult, though, and being an adult meant doing things he didn’t enjoy doing, so Valtteri went into the kitchen to retrieve the left over lasagne.

Felipe was still sat on the counter top, the smell of something cooking coming from the oven. Valtteri smiled weakly as he crossed the kitchen to the fridge, mentally counting the seconds until Felipe brought up Toto.

“Your boyfriend seems nice,” Felipe said, after just over four seconds.

“He is nice,” Valtteri replied, taking the lasagne out of the oven. “Could I have a bowl to reheat this?”

“Sure,” Felipe said, taking a bowl out of the cupboard behind him and handing it to Valtteri. “I put the contact details for that cleaning thing on the fridge. And my phone number, in case you wanted it.”

“Thanks,” Valtteri said quietly, scraping the left overs into the bowl and shoving it into the microwave.

“Look,” Felipe said, hoping off of the counter. “Am sorry about earlier. Should have told you I was coming home early. Next time I will let you know if you do not have the house to yourself and then you can do what you want when I am not here, if you would prefer.”

Valtteri stared at him. “You’re… you are letting me do what I want.”

“Sure,” Felipe said with a shrug. “As long as you are happy, is nothing to do with me.”

Valtteri didn’t believe him. This was a trick. A test. He wasn’t sure what it was testing, but he knew better than to fall for Felipe’s smile.

“We are happy, you know,” he said. “Love Toto.”

“I know,” Felipe said, crouching down to check on the pizza he’d put in the oven.

“And he loves me,” Valtteri said.

“Guessed that too,” Felipe said.

“Am not some kid,” Valtteri said, still trying to figure out what test this was.

“Do not think you are,” Felipe said, standing.

“Is that it?” Valtteri asked.

“We can have a chat about your sex life if you want, Valtteri?” Felipe said. “But I got the impression you did not really want to talk about it.”

“I don’t,” Valtteri said, taking his food out of the microwave when it was finished.

“Well then,” Felipe said. “That’s it.”

 

“I’ve known him forever,” Valtteri said.

The remains of the pizza was on the sofa between them, Felipe having decided that he needed to share his pizza because he was sure Valtteri wasn’t eating enough. Valtteri had picked at a slice, not saying much, until now.

“Toto?” Felipe asked.

“Yeah,” Valtteri said. “He… He was around before my dad went to prison. His mum knew my dad and he would play out with me when dad was “busy”. We would go to the park and play football or go for walks and he’d let me ride on the back of his bike.”

Valtteri wasn’t looking at Felipe as he spoke, still picking at the pizza crust. Felipe watched him, not sure if he should speak yet, but kept quiet anyway.

“He was there,” Valtteri said. “He’s always been there.”

Valtteri had always told the social workers he didn’t remember much before his dad went to prison. He pretended he was too young, or he’d blocked it out. He remembered a lot, though. He remembered having swinging competitions which, looking back now, he was sure Toto had only let him win. He remembered going for walks for hours and being told stories to distract him from how much his legs ached. He remembered falling into the duck pond on more than one occasion and Toto having to drag him out. Thinking back, Valtteri was pretty sure he’d only been taken out of the house so his dad could get business done, but he had never known that at the time.

“He’s my best friend,” Valtteri said. “My _only_ friend. And he always has been. And I love him.”

He glanced up at Felipe, just to check if he was listening, but the Brazilian was watching him. Valtteri smiled sheepishly and looked away again.

“People seem to think, just because he’s older, he doesn’t care about me,” he said. “I don’t get it. He’s not even that much older than me. And he’s always really careful, you know? Always makes sure I am happy.”

The only thing he’d ever done that Valtteri didn’t like was let Nico and Lewis and everyone else hang out, but Valtteri could hardly stop him from hanging out with his friends, could he?

“You don’t have anything to worry about with Toto, no matter what the social worker said,” Valtteri said.

“Am glad to hear it,” Felipe said. “Mean it. Is good you have someone special.”

“Nobody else seems to think so,” Valtteri muttered. “Everyone keeps telling me I should stay away from him.”

“Must say,” Felipe said, sitting up. “When I first heard about Toto, I was worried, you know? Hear all these stories about abusive older men and I do not know Toto so I think maybe he might be one. But you know him, and you say all these things and you are an adult, so I trust your judgment. All those people saying you should stay away from him were just trying to make sure you are safe, you know? Is not you and Toto against the world.”

Valtteri glanced up at Felipe again and smiled. Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all.

“Not anymore,” he said, quietly.

 

Valtteri headed back to his room after dinner. It wasn’t that he was avoiding Felipe. He had a head ache, and he had a suspicion that spending too much time with other people that day had caused it. He just wanted some alone time and, when Felipe had disappeared to do the washing up (mentioning something about making a rota which Valtteri had pretended not to hear), he’d snuck back upstairs.

Being an adult was confusing. No, being an adult was fairly simple, and what he’d been doing for years now. Being _treated_ like an adult was confusing and… unexpected. It was what he wanted. Of course it was. It was what he’d always wanted.

But he also knew Felipe was right. Nobody had needed to protect him from Toto, but he kind of understood why they thought they did. And if they’d been protecting him from Toto, what else had they been protecting him from. Because whatever it was, they weren’t protecting him now…

The knock on his door made him jump and couldn’t Felipe leave him alone for five minutes?

“Come in.”

Felipe leaned against the door frame, smiling weakly. The colour of his cheeks suggested he was remembering the last time he was stood there and Valtteri glared at him. If he was about to take all that back now…

“Forgot to say earlier,” Felipe said. “My… my co-worker has invited you out. I mean, one of the guys in the kitchen is having drinks for his birthday at the weekend, and he is a bit of an asshole, so not many people are going. Would not be going myself, but promised his sister I would, and now she has invited you too. Would understand if you did not want to, but I promised her I would ask.”

“Oh,” Valtteri said. He wasn’t entirely sure how he was supposed to reply to that. “I don’t have any money.”

“You don’t?” Felipe said, surprised. Valtteri blushed, looking down at his feet and preying Felipe wasn’t about to ask where it had all gone. “I’ll buy you a drink, if you would like. Would only be staying for a couple, anyway. But, like I said, you do not have to come if you do not want to.”

“No, I do,” Valtteri said, quickly. “I’ll come.”

 


	7. Chapter 7

The bar was quiet when Felipe and Valtteri arrived. He knew Jason wouldn’t want to head to a club like his sister wanted them to go to, and Felipe was surprised enough to find they weren’t going to the local pub where Jason spent most of his Saturday evenings. According to Cathy, this needed to be a special occasion, hence the upmarket, overpriced bar.

Jason, Cathy, and a couple of others sat in a booth in the corner. Cathy jumped up and waved them over when she spotted them come in, and Valtteri was pretty sure he saw Felipe roll his eyes before he smiled and led the way over to the table.

“See, I told you he would come,” Cathy said to her brother, who looked as if he wanted to be there as much as Felipe did. “And you must be Valtteri. I’m Cathy. Hi.”

“Is she always this cheerful?” Valtteri muttered as he sat down beside Felipe.

“Most of the time,” Felipe replied quietly. “We cannot stay long,” he said to Cathy and Jason. “We have a meeting tomorrow.”

“That’s a shame,” Cathy said, sadly, as she stood. “I’ll get your first drinks. What are you having?”

“Just a coke,” Felipe said. “I’m not drinking.”

“Come on,” Cathy said. “You have to. It’s birthday _drinks_.”

“No,” Felipe said, shaking his head. “I’m not drinking.”

_Not after last time._

“Oh, come _on_ ,” Cathy said. “Felipe, one drink. Just one.”

She grinned at him, doing her best puppy dog impression but Felipe wasn’t having any of it.

“ _Fine_ ,” she sighed, annoyed. “Just coke. And you?”

She turned to Valtteri, expectantly. Valtteri had never had drinks in a bar before. He’d never had drinks anywhere except Toto’s house, and then he just drank what he was given and didn’t ask questions.

“Er… whatever…” he said, hoping she didn’t start pestering him as she had done Felipe.

“Sure,” Cathy said, grinning as she slid past her brother to go to the bar.

Once Cathy had gone, everyone slumped back into their seats. Apparently nobody wanted to be there. One of the chefs who gave Felipe lessons gave him a weak smile and attempted to make conversation about the weekend’s football, but it was clear they had all been dragged there by Cathy.

“We could all sneak out whilst she’s at the bar,” someone suggested.

“Oh, and here I was thinking you all loved me,” Jason said, swigging from a bottle of beer.

Valtteri had always imagined his first time going out as an adult would be more interesting than this. If this was what being an adult was like – hanging around in a lifeless bar with a bunch of people you already spent way more time with than you wanted to – then he would happily leave that for a while.

“Here you are,” Cathy said, happily placing too identical looking glasses of what looked like cola in front of Felipe and Valtteri, before sitting beside her brother again.

“What is it?” Valtteri asked. He wanted to know what he was expected to be drinking, knowing that whatever it was he had been drinking at Toto’s probably wouldn’t be accepted here.

“Rum and coke,” Cathy said.

Valtteri nodded, not sure how he was supposed to answer that, and tried to look like an adult as he lifted the glass to your lips.

“We were going to invite your boyfriend as well,” Cathy told him. “But Felipe didn’t want to after he walked in on the two of you fucking.”

Drinking like an adult didn’t seem to be a thing Felipe was capable of, spitting out his coke.

“Cathy!”

“What?”

The comment got some smiles from his co-workers, but Felipe was pretty sure he was about to die. Cathy sure had a way with words.

Valtteri looked down into his glass, trying to control the colour currently going to his cheeks. He did not want to look like a tomato in front of Felipe’s friends.

“I’m sorry,” Felipe mumbled. “Did not exactly use those words.”

“Oh, same thing,” Cathy said, waving it away. “So, what’s it like living with Felipe, then? Has he had you try his cooking?”

“Am not that bad,” Felipe protested before Valtteri could say anything, noting the colour of his friend’s cheeks. “And anyway, thought it was Jason’s birthday. Only came because you said you were going to tell us lots of embarrassing stories.”

“Oh yes!” Cathy said, suddenly remembering. “Why don’t we start with the time he fell into the river when we were nine?”

 

“What have you been putting in my drinks?” Felipe asked. He wasn’t _drunk_ but he could tell there was something in his drinks. He wouldn’t still be here if he was completely sober. He was sure of that.

“Nothing,” Cathy said, smiling wickedly, and Felipe rolled his eyes.

Valtteri was slumped against him, half asleep, and Felipe couldn’t tell if that was because he was drunk or because he was so bored. A mixture of the two, he guessed. They’d stayed longer than he’d planned to, and he was pretty sure the Finn had drunk more than he had too.

“We need to get going,” Felipe said, standing and causing Valtteri to stir.

“Just one more drink,” Cathy said, standing too. Almost everyone else had gone. Felipe was surprised to see Jason was still sat there.

“And then, when we try to leave after one more drink, you will say one more drink again,” Felipe said.

“How about you phone a taxi, and then have another drink whilst you wait for it to come?” Cathy suggested. “Or else you’ll be stood out in the cold. I’ll buy.”

“Fine,” Felipe said, sitting back down. He didn’t think he was going to get away without it. “But no alcohol this time. And just water for this one.”

He nudged Valtteri so he could sit back down. The Finn’s head was resting on his shoulder and Felipe awkwardly put his arm around him whilst he watched Cathy go to the bar, but she had his back to them and he couldn’t see what she was saying to the bar man.

“Has he never drunk before?” Jason asked, nodding to Valtteri.

“Not often, I guess,” Felipe said, pulling out his phone to call the taxi. “Come on, you. I am not a pillow.”

“Sorry,” Valtteri slurred, sitting up. “Are we going?”

“Yeah, I’m calling a taxi now,” Felipe said, putting his phone to his ear, but it was too noisy. “Look, you stay here, ok? Will be two seconds.”

He stood, sliding past Valtteri to go outside and phone for a taxi.

“Where’s he going then?” Cathy asked, coming back over with the drinks.

“Call a taxi,” Jason said, watching his sister sit beside Valtteri.

“Look at you, hey?” Cathy laughed, putting the glass of water in Valtteri’s hands. “Get some of this down you, see if it helps.”

“Get off me,” Valtteri mumbled shrugging Cathy away.

“Alright, mister moody,” Cathy laughed again, moving away from Valtteri when he glared at her. “What’s wrong with you?”

Valtteri lifted the water to his lips and his stomach lurched. He could feel Cathy and Jason watching him and his entire face burned. He was drunk. His head was spinning and he just wanted to sleep and he was _pretty sure_ what he was drunk, but he’d never been like this before.

This didn’t make any sense.

“They say ten minutes,” Felipe said, sitting down beside Valtteri. “They always say ten minutes, but are never ten minutes.”

“Want to go home,” Valtteri muttered, leaning against Felipe again.

“Yeah, we are going now,” Felipe muttered. He picked up Valtteri’s drink when he put it down, putting it back in the younger man’s hands. “Drink this. Will make you feel better.”

“Want Toto,” Valtteri said. He didn’t like this feeling and he needed Toto. He needed the normality. He didn’t want to go back to Felipe’s.

“Well, you’ve got me,” Felipe said. “Drink your water.”

 

Felipe had to help Valtteri out of the bar when the taxi came. The water didn’t seem to have done any good and the Finn could barely walk. Felipe nodded to the few people who were left at their table, as they left, struggling to keep Valtteri upright.

He put Valtteri in the taxi first and gave the driver the address.

“Want Toto,” Valtteri muttered again. This wasn’t right. He shouldn’t be feeling like this. He’d never felt like it before. Someone must have put something in his drink. Cathy. Cathy must have done something to him.

“I know you do,” Felipe said, gently. “But I think you need to go to bed, yes? Will regret this in the morning. Think I will too.”

He couldn’t believe he’d fallen for Cathy’s plan. He was going to kill her on Monday when they were both back at work. She _knew_ why he wasn’t drinking. Well, at least they hadn’t let him get behind the wheel of a car this time…

“What’s wrong with me?” Valtteri moaned.

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” Felipe said, gently, letting the Finn rest his head on his shoulder again. “You are just a little drunk, ok?”

Maybe more than a little. It was probably the first time he’d been drunk, Felipe realised. Like everyone kept saying, he was a good kid. A good kid who Felipe had just taken out and gotten drunk and gotten into trouble. Rob was going to kill him.

“They did something to me,” Valtteri said. That was the only explanation. Cathy had done something to him.

“No, is ok,” Felipe said, gently. “Is just the alcohol. You will be better in the morning. Well, you will be much worse in the morning, but then after that you will be better. Will teach you my magic hangover cures.”

Valtteri was crying and Felipe made a mental note to not let Valtteri get drunk again. Felipe held him closer, not sure what else he could say, and they sat in silence the rest of the journey home. Unsurprisingly, Valtteri was asleep by the time the taxi pulled up outside the boring little house they were supposed to be calling home, and Felipe had to help him out of the taxi even after he’d woken him up.

“You are going to need to stand up so I can open the door, ok,” Felipe said, gently, swaying a little himself as he tried to open the door. He managed to get the key into the lock on the third attempt and pushed open the door, both of them stumbling inside.

“There we are,” he said. “All home.”

He grinned, then noticed Valtteri had slid down to the floor and sighed. He was going to have to get the Finn up the stairs next, and that didn’t seem much like fun to him.

“Come on,” he said, holding out a hand for Valtteri to take. He looked up at Felipe with half closed eyes, then at the hand, but he didn’t take it. Felipe sighed and pulled him up. “Just up the stairs. Then you can sleep.”

Getting up the stairs took twice as long as Felipe thought it would, but they eventually made it to the landing, Valtteri tried to slump against the wall at the top and Felipe sighed again. Rob was going to kill him in the morning. Muttering something about how they were nearly there now, Felipe pushed open Valtteri’s bedroom door, stumbled over the younger man’s feet and fell onto his bed, pulling Valtteri on top of him.

“There you are,” Felipe said, smiling as he tried to shift the weight on top of him. “Safe and sound. Are going to regret this in the morning.”

Valtteri didn’t move, his eyes closed as he snuggled against Felipe.

“Are going to have to let go,” Felipe laughed. “Need to go to-.”

Valtteri leaned forward and kissed him, gently, his eyes still closed. Felipe stopped squirming, staring at Valtteri and waiting for him to realise what he had done.

A couple of seconds later, Valtteri froze too, his eyes flicking open.

“I… I’m…”

“I am going to go to bed,” Felipe said, pushing Valtteri off of him. “See you in the morning.”


	8. Chapter 8

Valtteri shoved his head into his pillow and screwed his eyes shut, as if that would make the nausea go away, but it didn’t help in the slightest. There were birds singing outside as if there was nothing wrong in the world, but all Valtteri wanted to do was murder them. And throw up.

Throwing up seemed like a more pressing issue than killing an innocent creature, and Valtteri pulled himself away from the pillow. The movement made his head swim and Felipe was right. He definitely wasn’t going to enjoy this.

Felipe was right?

Memories of the night before were bity and blurry and seemed to consist mostly of him falling asleep on Felipe’s shoulder and Cathy laughing too loudly. But they were there. He’d been drunk countless times with Toto and everyone else and he’d never remembered much from the night before. He must have been getting better at this whole drinking thing…

He’d kissed Felipe.

He was going to throw up.

 

Felipe was in the kitchen cooking when Valtteri eventually dragged himself down the stairs, still in the clothes he’d slept in. He knew he needed a shower but he’d decided that could wait until after he finished feeling like he was going to throw up every five seconds.

“Are mad,” Valtteri said, wondering into the kitchen.

“Good morning to you too,” Felipe said, turning away from where he was frying bacon to smile at Valtteri. Valtteri glared back at him. Maybe murdering the innocent birds would be bad, but if Felipe was going to be just as cheerful…

“Are mad,” Valtteri said again.

“You are going to try my magic hang over cure,” Felipe said, flipping over the bacon again before leaving it to fix his cure. He handed Valtteri a glass of something brown.

“What’s this?” Valtteri asked.

“Coke,” Felipe said, proudly. “Flat coke. Will do the trick. And then you have coffee. And then you have bacon. And then you have a shower and we watch hang over TV until maybe two-ish? And then we decide it is ok to be alive today.”

Valtteri looked down at the drink. He didn’t trust Felipe’s happiness, but he drank the drink anyway. If it was going to stop his head swimming so much, he’d try it.

“And now you have coffee,” Felipe instructed, taking the glass away from him. “You know where things are, no?”

“Felipe,” Valtteri said, quietly. He wondered if the Brazilian remembered what had happened and was ignoring it purposefully or if he’d genuinely forgotten, but Valtteri had to clear it up. “About last night.”

“Am sorry for letting you get so drunk,” Felipe said. “Only meant to go for a couple of drinks. But then Cathy puts whatever it was in my drink and we stay for more and more and I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s fine,” Valtteri said, waving it away. “No, I… I kissed you.”

“Oh,” Felipe said. The smile fell from his face as he turned back to the cooker. “Yeah…”

“I’m sorry,” Valtteri said, quickly. “Did not mean to. Was drunk and did not know what I was doing. Do not… do not _want_ you, you know. Have Toto.”

“I get it,” Felipe said. “Is better we pretend it did not happen, no?”

“Can we?” Valtteri asked, hopefully. If Felipe could just let them both forget about it, it would be amazing. It didn’t happen, as far as he was concerned, and that was better than could be expected.

“Of course,” Felipe said. “It did not even happen.”

“Thank you,” Valtteri said, relieved. That was one less thing he had to worry about.

Felipe dumped the cooked bacon on a plate and took over Valtteri’s coffee task.

“Drink this,” he said. “And eat some of that. Will make you feel better. I promise.”

 

It was the middle of the afternoon when Rob arrived to see how things were going, and Valtteri was feeling much better, curled up on the sofa like Felipe had told him to. Rob grinned down at Felipe when he answered the door, clearly prepared to congratulate himself on how well things were going. Felipe rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the smile the crept onto his face.

“Afternoon,” Rob said, following Felipe into the living room. “Go and make us some tea, Felipe.”

“Told you it could be worse,” Felipe told Valtteri as Rob sat down beside him. “Could have made you my personal slave like Rob did to me.”

“Tea,” Rob said again, and Felipe hurried into the kitchen to go and boil the kettle. “So, Valtteri, everything going alright?”

“Suppose,” Valtteri muttered, not looking away from the TV. Felipe might have been alright, but he didn’t know Rob and he had no reason to trust him or open up to him.

“Good to hear it,” Rob said. “Felipe said you applied for that cleaning job at the hotel.”

“Yeah,” Valtteri said.

“Well, if you get an interview and you want to come to Fresh Start to practice interview technique that’s fine by me,” Rob said. “You’ve got my number. It would probably be a good idea, you know. Would really help.”

“Thanks,” Valtteri said. He could practically hear Rob going through his mental checklist of things he needed to say and hoped the list wasn’t too long. He wanted to get back to his lazy Sunday.

“It would be a good place to start, there,” Rob said. “A few of the people on the scheme have started the hotel and worked their way up the ladder. It could be the beginning of a career, if you wanted it to be,”

“Am not looking for a career,” Valtteri said. “Just a job.”

“Sure, yeah,” Rob said, nodding. “But the possibility might be there, which would be nice, wouldn’t it? Has Felipe spoken to you about going and getting some training?”

“Yes,” Valtteri said, bluntly. But Rob already knew that. Valtteri knew Felipe phoned Rob every day to let him know how things were going. He didn’t see why the meeting was really necessary when Rob already knew everything he needed to know.

“And I guess that isn’t an option you want to consider right now then,” Rob said.

“No.”

“That’s alright,” Rob said. “Training isn’t for everyone. Have you applied for jobs anywhere else?”

Valtteri shook his head. It wasn’t that he wasn’t looking, although he knew that was what Rob was going to think and he couldn’t be bothered to argue against him.

“That’s ok,” Rob said. “It isn’t such a good idea to put all your eggs in one basket, though. See if there’s anything else out there to go for as well. Fresh Start will happily be a reference, if you need one.”

“Will do,” Valtteri muttered, not bothering to point out that he _was_ looking, and he had references of his own. He didn’t need some stupid scheme’s help with that.

Felipe returned with a mug of tea for Rob and the Brit slurped it noisily before putting the mug down at his feet.

“Thanks,” he said.

Felipe stood awkwardly, knowing he couldn’t be here whilst Rob was going through things with Valtteri, but it was clear Valtteri thought otherwise.

“Are you ok?” the Finn asked.

“Yeah, fine,” Felipe said. “Should probably get some shopping done now before the shops close. Is there anything you want this week?”

“Can’t it wait?” Valtteri asked, confused. He wanted Felipe here with him. He knew how these things worked and he knew how to answer Rob’s questions.

“Not really,” Felipe said. “Will not be long.”

Rob waited until Felipe had left the house before turning back to Valtteri. Valtteri had shrunk back even further into the sofa, which Rob hadn’t really thought was possible. He slurped at his tea for a couple more minutes before returning to his mental checklist.

“I need to ask,” Rob said. “And don’t be afraid to tell me anything, but have there been any incidents.”

“Incidents?” Valtteri asked, looking away from the television again. “What do you mean?”

“Incidents,” Rob said. “Like… has Felipe ever made you feel uncomfortable? Said something purposefully to upset you? Or has he made you do anything? Or hit you?”

“No,” Valtteri said, disgusted. “He’s never done anything like that.” He didn’t know why Rob would even ask something like that. Felipe was _his_ friend, after all. “Why would he do something like that?”

“It happens more often than we would like,” Rob said, quietly. “Not with Felipe, I mean in general. And I just need to make sure it isn’t happening here.”

“Of course it isn’t,” Valtteri said, glaring at Rob. Did Felipe know his friend was talking about him like this? Probably. It was probably why Felipe had gone out. Why would Felipe stay friends with someone who spoke about him like that?

“Alright,” Rob said. “But if anything like that does happen, with Felipe or with anybody else…”

“You mean Toto?” Valtteri said. First Felipe, then Toto. Rob sure knew how to make friends.

“I mean _anybody_ ,” Rob said, slowly. “Toto, or any of your other friends, or co-workers when you get some. You can tell me if that happens. Or anyone at the Fresh Start. I want you to know that you’ve got as many people looking out for you as you had when you were in care, ok?”

“I don’t need anyone looking out for me,” Valtteri said. “Felipe’s fine and Toto’s fine and there’s no need to look out for me.”

“And I’m sure that’s the case,” Rob said. “But, just because you’re an adult now doesn’t mean you have to do everything by yourself, yeah?”

“I’m. Fine,” Valtteri insisted.

 

Rob was gone by the time Felipe came back. Valtteri was still sat on the sofa, glaring at the television as if it had offended him in some way. He didn’t look up when Felipe came in, babbling about the price of fish, plastic bags of shopping in both hands.

“Are you alright?” Felipe asked once he’d dumped the bags on the kitchen side. The look on Valtteri’s face answered the question even when he didn’t say anything.

Felipe sighed and fell onto the sofa beside him.

“What has happened?”

“Nothing,” Valtteri said.

“Can tell there is something wrong,” Felipe said. “Want to talk? Could make it better.”

“Is nothing,” Valtteri said again. He glanced over at Felipe, finding the Brazilian smiling at him. Valtteri sighed, trying to stay annoyed but failing. “Is fine, Felipe. What are you cooking today?”

“Thought maybe you could decide that,” Felipe said. “Give me a dish and I’ll see if I can make something nice.”

Valtteri smiled at his friends grin. “Let me see…”

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so this is really not a nice chapter and, yes, Nico and Lewis *are* very different from rl but someone had to be the bad guy.

Valtteri lay with his head on Toto’s chest, his eyes closed, listening to the sound of Toto’s heartbeat. They were at his place again, but alone this time. The way Valtteri liked it. Nothing to disturb them. Toto had the day off, Valtteri had nowhere else to be, and they were both lying happily in Toto’s bed, enjoying the peace. Valtteri sighed, happily.

Toto’s fingers ran gently through Valtteri’s short hair and Valtteri snuggled into him. Toto laughed, looking down at the lump on top of him.

“You better not be going to sleep,” he said, quietly.

“Are comfy,” Valtteri said, his eyes still closed.

Toto laughed again, the sound much deeper to Valtteri with his ear pressed against the older man’s chest. Toto’s hand fell from Valtteri’s neck, down his bare back to his waist, drawing patterns on the pale skin there. Valtteri wriggled a little at the touch, then stilled.

“Love you,” he murmured.

“Love you too.”

Valtteri smiled again, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. If people like Rob knew how he felt right now, he wouldn’t get these stupid warnings. If they knew how happy he was, they would leave him alone.

 

When Valtteri woke the bed was empty. He wasn’t entirely sure how Toto had managed to get out of bed without waking him, but that was the kind of thing Toto did. A glance over at the alarm clock on Toto’s bedside table told him it was late. He should probably be getting back. Felipe had taught him how to cook spaghetti bolognaise and he was looking forward to cooking for himself for once.

The bed was comfy and Valtteri sadly said goodbye to it, pulling on his clothes before heading downstairs. There was a crash from the kitchen, then a laugh which made Valtteri shudder.

Nico threw a dust pan and bush at Lewis, still laughing, as Valtteri came into the kitchen. Lewis dodged and the brush flew into the door beside Valtteri’s head, making Nico laugh even harder.

“Where’s Toto?” Valtteri asked

“Went out,” Lewis said, taking the brush to sweep up the shattered glass.

“And left you two here alone?” Valtteri said. He hardly believed that. Sure, they were Toto’s friends, but he had to be aware the pair of them were idiots.

“We’re big boys Valtteri,” Nico cooed. “We’re allowed to be home alone without daddy Toto looking after us.”

“Fuck off,” Valtteri spat back at him.

He crossed his arms. He wasn’t leaving Nico and Lewis unsupervised in Toto’s kitchen. God knew what kind of state they would leave it in. He’d watch them until Toto got back and then head home.

As Lewis stood, the dust pan of shattered glass in his hands, Nico knocked him, sending the shards of glass tumbling to the floor again.

“Oops.”

Valtteri rolled his eyes. And they called him immature.

“Clean that up for us, Val,” Nico said, that slimy smile back on his face.

“Do it yourself,” Valtteri said.

“Oh, don’t be like this Valtteri,” Lewis laughed. “Just clean up the mess.”

He pushed the dustpan and brush into Valtteri’s hands before going off to find some food in Toto’s kitchen cupboards. Nico didn’t move, waiting to see what Valtteri would do. Slowly, the Finn put the dust pan and brush down on the counter top, glaring at Nico.

Your move.

“Just clean up the fucking mess, faggot,” Nico snapped, snatching the dust pan and brush and shoving them into Valtteri’s chest. They both fell to the floor when Valtteri didn’t take them, bouncing off of the tiles with a clatter. “What’s Toto going to say when he’s seen what a mess you’ve made?”

“I’ve not made a mess,” Valtteri said, not backing down when Nico took another step forward, even if it meant he had to look up at him to glare at him.

“You think Toto’s going to believe that?” Nico asked. “You think Toto believes a word that comes out of your mouth. You’re just a stupid little kid. He pities you, Valtteri. That’s the only reason he keeps you around.”

“Clean up your mess,” Valtteri said, slowly, as if Nico wouldn’t understand him otherwise.

Nico pushed him back, causing Valtteri to stumble back into the door.

“Hey,” Lewis called, rushing over to pull his friend away from Valtteri. “Come on. You hurt him and he’ll call social services on you.”

“I’m not a kid,” Valtteri snapped, stepping away from the door.

“Clean up the fucking mess, Bottas,” Nico snarled.

“Make me,” Valtteri spat back, taking another step towards Nico. The German held his glare for a couple of moments, smirk on his face, before Valtteri’s feet were swiped from under him and he fell to the floor. Nico’s foot on the side of his head pressed his face against the cool tiles and the shattered glass whilst Lewis knelt on his legs, holding his hands behind his back.

“Make you, faggot?” Nico spat. “I’ll fucking make you.”

“Get off of me.”

“Are you going to clean up your mess?” Nico asked. “Are you?”

“Get off of me.”

“Are you going to clean up your fucking mess?” Nico asked, pushing his foot down harder.

“Yes, alright,” Valtteri snapped. “I’ll clean it up.”

Nico didn’t say anything for a moment, before taking his food away from Valtteri’s head and nodding to Lewis to let him stand. Nico handed him the dust pan and brush again, and Valtteri quickly swept up the glass, blood beginning to trickle down his face, and shoved the whole lot into the bin.

Without saying a word, he marched out of the house, glaring at Toto on his way in.

 

_Has he ever made you feel uncomfortable?_

“Valtteri? Valtteri, slow down.”

_Said something purposefully to upset you?_

“You need to talk to me, Val, come on.”

_Or has he made you do anything?_

“I’m your boyfriend. You need to speak to me.”

_Or hit you?_

“Valtteri,” Toto snapped, grabbing hold of Valtteri’s shoulder. “Speak to me.”

“They’re the kind of people everyone is trying to warn me about,” Valtteri snapped, glaring at his so called boyfriend.

“No they’re not, Val,” Toto said, gently, his hand sliding into Valtteri’s.

“They’re vile, twisted people who treat me like shit.”

“They’re really not,” Toto tried to say.

“And you are as bad as them for defending them,” Valtteri snapped, pulling his hand away from Toto’s and continuing his march back down the street. He just wanted to go home and clean his face up, eat his fucking bolognaise, and go to sleep.

“They’re not bad people, Valtteri,” Toto tried again, walking at Valtteri’s side. “It’s just a joke.”

“Does this look like a fucking joke?” Valtteri snapped, pointing to his face where blood was still trickling from the tiny cuts the glass had caused.

Toto sighed, unable to come up with an answer, and shook his head.

“You know how horrible they are to me,” Valtteri said. “And then you leave me alone with them. And you think something like this will not happen?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Of course.”

“They are my friends, Valtteri,” Toto said.

“And I’m your _boyfriend_ ,” Valtteri snapped.

“I know, and I love you,” Toto said, taking hold of Valtteri’s hand again and pulling him to a stop. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re always fucking sorry,” Valtteri snapped. “But you never fucking do anything.”

“What do you want me to do?” Toto asked.

“Kick them out,” Valtteri said. “They are horrible. I don’t want them anywhere near me. And if you’re not going to kick them out, I don’t want you anywhere near me either.”

“Come on, Val, you don’t mean that,” Toto said.

“I do.”

“You’re making me chose?” Toto asked. “Really?”

“Yes,” Valtteri said. “I am not putting up with them anymore, Toto. Is not fair. How long do I wait?”

“Then I chose you,” Toto said, quickly, not letting Valtteri march away from him again. “I love you, Valtteri. More than anything in the world. I’m not letting you go.”

 

He couldn’t eat. He pushed the food around his plate. He’d cleaned his face up. Most of the scratches were too small to see, which he was thankful for. The last thing he needed was for Felipe to come in and ask what had happened.

Toto had chosen him. After everything, Toto had chosen him. And Valtteri knew he should have been happy about that but he knew Toto wasn’t happy. He’d forced Toto to choose between him and his friends and it wasn’t fair on him. He didn’t want to be the one to make Toto unhappy.

Felipe closed the front door as quietly as possible, the fact that none of the lights were on suggesting that Valtteri was already in bed. He toed off his shoes quickly before heading into the kitchen to make himself some coffee.

“Valtteri?” Felipe asked, flicking the light on.

Valtteri looked up at him, glumly, then back to his now cold food. His hand was covering the worst of his wounds. It wasn’t that he was hiding them. He just did not want to have that conversation right now.

“What has happened?” Felipe asked.

“Nothing,” Valtteri said.

“Is it the food?” Felipe asked, jokingly. “Did remember to seasoning like I showed you?”

“Is not the food,” Valtteri said.

“Then what is it?”

“Had a fight with Toto,” Valtteri said, quietly. He knew he was going to get the lecture now. It was a miracle he hadn’t had it before, but now it would be coming. Don’t let him hurt you. Don’t let him walk over you. Don’t do this. Don’t do that.

“Am sorry.”

“Wasn’t your fault,” Valtteri muttered. It was Nico and Lewis’. He hated them. He didn’t understand why they made Toto so happy. Why would he _want_ to spend time with them?

“Know this,” Felipe said, gently. “But it is not a good thing, break ups.”

“I’ve not broken up with him,” Valtteri said, glaring at Felipe. “It was just an argument. We sorted things out.”

“Alright,” Felipe said, sitting on the stool beside Valtteri. “Then why are you still looking so sad?”

Valtteri sighed and put his knife and fork down and sat back. “You know how everyone says your partner should put your happiness before theirs. Treat you right and stuff.”

“Yeah?” Felipe said. “Has Toto done something to hurt you?”

“No, it’s me,” Valtteri said. “Made him chose between me and his friends. But they are _horrible_. To me and to us and I do not know why he is still friends with them but he is and I made him chose between us. And he chose me. But he didn’t want to.”

“Ah,” Felipe said. Valtteri couldn’t tell if he really understood, or if he was just pretending. He didn’t know what Felipe could say to make this any better, but the Brazilian had surprised him so far.

“What do I do?” Valtteri asked.

“Have to let him see his friends, Valtteri,” Felipe said, gently. “Would not like it if it was the other way around?”

“But they are awful people,” Valtteri said. “And I’ve told him, but he doesn’t get it. He thinks it’s a joke but it _isn’t_.”

“Speak to him,” Felipe suggested. “Maybe you make it so you do not have to be with them. You share him with these friends, but you do not be around them? I don’t know. But maybe you think of something with Toto,”

“Maybe,” Valtteri said. He didn’t like the sound of that. He didn’t want Toto around Lewis and Nico. But if it was going to make him happy… “Will speak to him tomorrow. Thank you.”

“Glad I could help,” Felipe said with a smile.

 


	10. Chapter 10

The knocking at the door sent Felipe back to his childhood. He didn’t have to look to see who it was, the three heavy, ominous knocks enough to let him know. For a couple of seconds he didn’t move, frozen to the spot on the sofa, his heart beating so fast in his chest he thought it might kill him.

_Don’t let them take me away Mama._

He gulped, the knocking repeated and a shout letting him know who was there, that he had to open up, that they knew he was there. He shuddered and stood, placing the mug of tea down gently and wiping his eyes on the back of his hand,

_Please Mama. Will be a good boy. Promise. Please don’t let them take me away._

He’d told Rob this would happen. Felipe had told him this stupid plan wouldn’t work. They would find out eventually. They always did. And he deserved it too. He should never have gotten behind the wheel of the car. He should never have done any of it in the first place.

_Am your little boy Mama. Cannot do this. Cannot just abandon me, Mama, please._

With shaking hands, Felipe opened the door. Two police officers smiled back at him and Felipe shuddered again. He had to remind himself they were just doing their jobs. They were just protecting people.

“Mr Massa. We’d like to ask you some questions about the night of the accident…”

 

Felipe woke, sweating and panicking, but it was just a dream. It was always just a dream. He stared up at the ceiling, waiting for the voices to return, waiting for them to prove him wrong and announce it was real life after all, but there was just silence.

Rob’s plan was working. It was always working.

 

Valtteri burst into the kitchen full of excitement, a grin on his face that would have shocked Felipe if he had been paying attention. The Brazilian sat at the counter, his third mug of coffee of the day in front of him, and tried to smile when Valtteri grinned at him, but he was too tired.

“Are you alright?” Valtteri asked, his own smile falling.

Felipe nodded, rubbing his head and trying to put the thoughts the dream always sparked away again. He smiled at Valtteri.

“Why are you so excited?”

“I got an interview,” Valtteri beamed, clearly proud of himself.

“Really?” Felipe asked, lifting instantly. “Well done!”

“Emailed me last night,” Valtteri said, his smile growing. “Have actually got an interview, Felipe.”

“Is great,” Felipe said, hoping off of the stool. “Calls for a celebratory coffee, no?”

Valtteri watched as Felipe made the coffee, unable to wipe the smile off of his face. This had to be a good thing, didn’t it? Maybe he was about to finally get his life on track, get everything he’d wanted to sort out sorted. He wasn’t going to be the care home kid anymore, or his father’s son. He was an adult capable of looking after himself.

“Have been thinking what you said last night,” Valtteri said. “About Toto.”

“Yeah?”

“Am going to go and see him when he finishes work this afternoon,” Valtteri said. “See if we can sort things out so we are both happy.”

“That’s good,” Felipe said. “See, all the things will go your way today. Just know it.”

 

“Am still having the dreams, Rob,” Felipe said, falling into one of the chairs in Rob’s office. He didn’t like talking over the phone about this, but he needed to talk to _someone_ , and Rob was the only one who knew.

Rob didn’t say anything for a few moments, drinking from the mug that seemed to be permanently glued to his hand.

“It’s over, Felipe,” he said, eventually, setting the mug down on the desk before sitting down behind it.

“Know this,” Felipe said. “But they could still find out, no? All it takes is one person to have seen that it was not you driving, and they go to the police.”

“And that isn’t going to happen,” Rob insisted, sternly. He’d had this conversation with Felipe more times than he could count and it always ended up the same way. He wondered if Felipe ever expected anything else to happen because of it, if that was why he kept bringing it up. What Felipe would want other than the usual outcome, Rob didn’t know.

“You do not know this,” Felipe said. “You cannot know this. And what if they find out?”

Felipe knew it was his fault. Knew he shouldn’t have gotten in the car in the first place, but the longer the secret went on, the harsher the punishment was going to be when the truth did eventually come out. And he knew it was going to come out.

“Should never have let you do what you did,” Felipe said.

“You didn’t have a choice, mate,” Rob said. He knew he would do the same thing if he was given half a chance, as did Felipe. “Just forget about it. It’s over now. I’ve been punished. They’re not going to be looking for anyone else, are they? It is over.”

“Is not for me,” Felipe snapped. “I am the one getting these dreams every other week. I am the one who has to live with this.”

“You think I don’t?” Rob asked.

“I am the one who got in the car so drunk I could not even walk in a straight line,” Felipe said, trying to keep his voice down because he’d been told enough times by Rob that anybody could be listening. “I am the one who could have killed somebody. I am the one who crashed.”

“And I’m the one who covered for you,” Rob said. “And I would do it again in a heartbeat. You’re not alone in this, Felipe. I’m here for you, like I’ve always been.”

“Cannot stop the dreams though,” Felipe pointed out. “Cannot stop me wondering, every time there is a knock at the door, if this is them. If they have come to take me away again.”

Rob sighed, sadly. “Felipe…”

Felipe shook his head, not looking at Rob as he stood again, coming over to him and crouching down beside the chair as if he were a child.

“Felipe, look at me,” Rob said, gently. “Nobody is coming for you anymore. Nobody is going to be coming for you ever again.”

“You. Don’t. Know. That.”

“Come here,” Rob said, standing and pulling Felipe up with him. He took Felipe’s chair and sat the Brazilian on his lap, letting him curl up a little like they used to do before. “Nobody is coming for you ever again, sunshine, ok? I promise. And if anybody should have been punished for what happened, it should have been me. I was sober. I shouldn’t have let you get in the car. And I was the one who covered for you. I was the one who made you lie.”

“Could have lost your job,” Felipe murmured, his fingers tracing the lines on Rob’s hands.

“And you could have lost your place on the scheme,” Rob said. “It was less of a risk. I know how important this is for you, sunshine.”

“Am sorry,” Felipe said, quietly. “For coming in all hysterical.”

“Again.”

“Again,” Felipe agreed. “I just… Just want the dreams to stop.”

“And they will,” Rob said, pressing a kiss to Felipe’s temple. “They’ll stop eventually.”

“Thank you,” Felipe said. “For… for everything.”

“It’s what I’m here for.”

 

“I have an interview,” Valtteri said proudly, following Toto into the house.

“Oh really?” Toto said. “I knew you would. You will be working before you know it. Do you want something to eat?”

“Please,” Valtteri said, following his boyfriend into the kitchen. He stood in the doorway a moment, half expecting Nico and Lewis to pop out of nowhere and start attacking him again, but he knew Toto would never do anything like that to him.

“I’ve been thinking,” he said, sitting at the table whilst he watched Toto prepare them both something to eat.

“Don’t do that. You will hurt yourself.”

“Haha,” Valtteri said, sarcastically. One day he wasn’t going to fall for that. “Am serious, though. Was thinking about what I said yesterday.”

“I get it, you know,” Toto said, not looking up from where he was chopping salad. “Know they are not the nicest people in the world. Understand why you are hurt. It is just their sense of humour though.”

Valtteri cringed. It was when he said things like that that Valtteri wondered what side Toto was on in the first place. But he knew it was his. Toto had chosen him.

“They are your friends,” he said, quietly. “Is not fair for me to stop you seeing them.”

“I chose you, Valtteri,” Toto said, placing a plate of salad and cooked meats in front of the Finn. “I love you, and if they are upsetting you that much, I will not stand for it.”

“Thought they were going to kill me,” Valtteri said, quietly. He gulped and tried to look up at Toto but, for some reason, he couldn’t. He looked down at his food again, shuddering when Toto sighed. He didn’t understand. He didn’t understand what it had felt like.

“I’m sorry,” Toto said. “But they are not here anymore. It’s just you and me now, like you wanted.”

“Want you to be happy,” Valtteri said, looking up at Toto. “Was being selfish yesterday. Am sorry.”

“I _am_ happy,” Toto insisted. “I have you.”

“But they are your friends,” Valtteri insisted. “I cannot take them away from you. It is not fair.”

“You told me what you thought of them yesterday,” Toto said. “I do not want you to be unhappy, and if they are making you unhappy, then I will not speak to them. I’ve told you, Valtteri. I love you. You are more important to me than they are.”

“But… but they’re your _friends_ ,” Valtteri said. He didn’t understand. After how much Toto had been defending them, he was just going to give them up? If he didn’t trust his boyfriend so much, Valtteri would have suspected something was going on. “Am not going to stop you seeing them, Toto. If you want to see Nico or Lewis, then see them. Am not going to blame you. Will still be here.”

“I chose you, Valtteri.”

“And now I am saying you don’t need to choose,” Valtteri said. “Can have both, if you want to. Mean, I do not want to see Nico or Lewis ever again. Will not come round when they are here, and would rather you did not leave me sleeping if they are coming round, if possible. But if you want to hang out with them or anything, then I will not be upset or angry. Just want you to be happy.”

He smiled weakly, hoping Toto would just accept what he had said so they could talk about something else. Anything else.

Toto smiled back, his eyes glistening again. “You are a star, you know?”

“Is nothing.”

“Is not nothing,” Toto said, leaning over to place a kiss on Valtteri’s forehead. “Are my little star.”

 


	11. Chapter 11

“They just kept bringing up that this was my first job over and over,” Valtteri said, after retelling the story of his interview again. He was looking at the floor but kept looking up at Felipe every couple of seconds, the grin on the Brazilian’s face making Valtteri smile. “That I do not have any experience.”

“You will be fine,” Felipe insisted, lifting the wooden spoon out of the pot of chilli. “Come on. Taste this.”

“Are you experimenting on me?” Valtteri asked.

“Maybe,” Felipe said with a wink. “Open up.”

Pretending to be annoyed, Valtteri opened his mouth and let Felipe put the spoon in his mouth.

“So?” Felipe asked, beaming as he put the spoon on the side.

“Is not bad,” Valtteri admitted, laughing at the way Felipe’s smile almost split his face. It was as good as he was going to get from Valtteri.

“Not bad,” Felipe repeated. “Can I quote you for my cook book?”

He switched off the cooker and began to get the dishes out of the cupboard, happily dishing up the dinner.

“Am going round to Rob’s later,” Felipe said. “Football is on. Want to go and laugh at Rob’s team losing.”

“Oh,” Valtteri said, the grin turning into a smirk.

“What is that look for?” Felipe asked.

“You and Rob.”

“Is just my friend, Valtteri,” Felipe said, waving the serving spoon at the Finn.

“Yeah, but you want it to be more,” Valtteri said, the smirk still on his face. “Or you wanted to. Don’t deny it. Cathy told me.”

“You’ve been speaking to Cathy?” Felipe asked, turning back to the dinner.

He wasn’t denying it, Valtteri noticed.

“She was coming out of the restaurant when I was coming out of the hotel,” Valtteri said. “Wanted to come over to apologise for the other night and getting me drunk and everything. She said you were not very happy with her.”

“Wasn’t,” Felipe said. “She should not have been putting things in my drink.”

“And she said _you_ used to have a _thing_ for Rob,” Valtteri said.

Felipe cringed, but he was still smiling. “Yes. But have said before, it did not happen. Is not going to happen. Are just going to laugh at my best friend’s misery.”

“Because you did not want it to happen?” Valtteri asked. “Or because it could not happen.”

“Both,” Felipe said. “Does not matter. Did not happen.”

He put one of the plates down in front of Valtteri.

“Fine,” the Finn said, digging his fork into the meal. “Then I am coming too.”

“You are coming?” Felipe asked, clearly surprised. “To come and watch football? Did not even think you liked football.”

“Maybe I just want to watch Rob’s team lose too?” Valtteri said.

“Fine then. Come too.”

 

“Felipe,” Rob grinned as he opened the door, but his face fell into a confused smile when he saw who was at the door. “And… Valtteri? Evening?”

Valtteri nodded a hello to him and Rob led the two of them into the house, still a little confused at the Finn’s appearance. Valtteri was still smirking, and it was now making Felipe laugh too. He was done denying what Valtteri had said – it _had been_ true after all – but had warned him not to say anything and Valtteri had promised to keep his house shut.

“Valtteri was bored, said he wanted to come and laugh at you too,” Felipe said. “If that is alright with you?”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Rob said. “More the merrier. Make yourselves at home.”

 

Rob had over Felipe’s shoulders and the other hand holding his beer bottle, squeezing Felipe into a bone crushing hug every time his team did something good (not score, Valtteri noticed. The fact the team got hold of the ball required a cheer, which suggested it wasn’t likely there were going to be any goals any time soon). Valtteri watched them both, catching Felipe’s eye every once in a while. He was happy, he noticed.

“You are supposed to be working your magic, sunshine,” Rob complained when the referee stopped the game again.

“Cannot help if your team are shit,” Felipe laughed.

“You’re broken,” Rob complained.

“Magic?” Valtteri asked.

“First time he watched football with me, we won,” Rob said. “First match we’d won that season.”

“And this is why I am allowed to come and laugh at him losing every game since,” Felipe said.

“No, we had our biggest winning streak for years,” Rob said. “And it’s all this one’s fault. Oh!”

Rob’s team had the ball again, but Valtteri couldn’t see them getting any further than they usually did. He watched the pair of them from the chair across the room, finding Rob’s reactions much more entertaining than the game, and Felipe’s reactions much more… interesting.

“Oh! Oh-oh-oh! Yes! Get in my son!”

They’d actually scored, Valtteri noticed, which he was pretty sure was a miracle. The commentators seemed to be agreeing with him, and Valtteri watched the surprised footballers celebrate on the television screen. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Rob practically pull Felipe onto his lap, kissing the top of his head again.

Valtteri rolled his eyes, turning back to the screen.

 

“You still like him, don’t you?” Valtteri said when they were home again. He’d almost fallen asleep during the game, the smirk slowly falling from his face. Felipe still liked Rob and Valtteri… Valtteri didn’t know what he felt.

“No,” Felipe said. “We are just friends. Is nothing.”

“Didn’t look like just nothing to me,” Valtteri said, crossing his arms as he watched his friend pull off his coat. He wasn’t going to be treated like a child and he wasn’t going to have Felipe lie to him.

Felipe shrugged. “Does not matter what it looked like. We are just friends. Nothing else.”

“So if I started acting like that to you, you would be ok with it?” Valtteri asked.

“Val, don’t be stupid,” Felipe said, gently, hanging up his coat and kicking off his shoes. “Is nothing going on between Rob and I.”

“But you _wanted_ it to,” Valtteri said, stepping towards Felipe and closing the gap between them. Felipe was stood against the wall, looking up at Valtteri, and Valtteri didn’t know why it mattered so much to him but it _did._

“Saw the way you looked at him, Felipe,” he said, quietly. “Cannot tell me you are just friends.”

Valtteri watched Felipe bite his bottom lip, looking back up at him. Without saying a word, he shook his head, sliding away from Valtteri and up the stairs.

“Am going to bed.”

“Felipe, wait.”

“Good night, Valtteri.”

 

He shouldn’t have been as bothered as he was. He knew that. Even if Felipe and Rob _were_ in some secret relationship, or if Felipe wanted them to be, it had nothing to do with him. Nothing Felipe or Rob did had anything to do with him.

It wasn’t as if he was jealous.

It was _not_ as if he was jealous.

It was just…

Valtteri struggled to explain it to himself as he lay in bed, hours after having given in and pulled the covers around himself. The only thing his brain threw at him was that it shouldn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter, but it _did_ , and that wasn’t very helpful at all.

_Felipe deserves better._

The thought came out of the blue, just as Valtteri was drifting into sleep at last, and shocked him awake.

Felipe deserved better. He didn’t deserve Rob, who went through the checks as if his friend could be some kind of murderer or something. He didn’t deserve someone who treated him as Rob had done whilst they watched the football, not even noticing the gleam in Felipe’s eyes when Rob hugged him.

And that was why it mattered. Maybe… Valtteri wasn’t so sure, but it sounded a lot better than the other option that popped into his head. Valtteri was just looking out for the friend that had looked out for him. That was all.

It was _not_ as if he was jealous.

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is awful. Sorry.

“Has there ever been anyone?” Valtteri asked over lunch a couple of days later. He didn’t really know if he should ask. It wasn’t as if they’d spoken about it since the night at Rob’s. Not that Valtteri hadn’t been thinking about it. He’d sat through an entire meeting with Rob, wondering if he knew (but he had to know, didn’t he? You couldn’t just miss the kind of looks Felipe gave him, no matter how hard Felipe tried to hide them), and, in the end, he’d decided to try a new approach with Felipe.

Felipe sighed, the smile that was usually on his face gone now. “There was once. But it was not so good. And now there isn’t.”

He tried to smile, but it didn’t convince Valtteri. The Finn moved closer on the sofa, waiting for Felipe to continue.

“There used to be someone,” Felipe said. He wasn’t looking at Valtteri now, trying to come up with a way of explaining his past without it sounding as if he was mad. Well, he _had_ been mad for most of it. Out of his mind on drugs, anyway. “A guy. Fernando. He was not a bad person. He did some bad things, but that does not make him a bad person.”

“So why is it a once?” Valtteri asked. “Why isn’t he here now?”

“Nosey, aren’t you?” Felipe said, trying to joke and change the subject, but Valtteri wasn’t having it.

“Felipe?”

“He was my dealer,” Felipe admitted. “Before I went to prison. And was trying to get me back on the same things afterwards.”

“Oh,” Valtteri said. He suddenly wished he hadn’t pushed him so much. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Felipe said. “I can’t really expect you to trust me if I do not trust you.” He smiled and put his arm around Valtteri. Valtteri shuffled over a little further, leaning against him. “Was a long time ago, and I do not want to talk about him so much.”

“Guess you have not seen him since,” Valtteri muttered.

“No,” Felipe said. “When I was with Rob, Rob thought it would be best if I was not around him at all. Was a good idea. Felt much better when Fernando was not around. But sometimes I miss him, you know? Could maybe help him like Rob helped me, but I don’t know where is anymore, so is no chance of that happening.”

“Is that why you’re on the scheme?” Valtteri asked. “In case this Fernando ever shows up.”

“No,” Felipe said. He laughed again, but Valtteri still didn’t believe him. “No, Fernando is my past, and that is not somewhere I want to go again.”

“And your future is?” Valtteri asked.

“Not Rob,” Felipe said, knowing what the Finn was trying to get at. “I’m not looking for anyone, Valtteri. Do not worry about me. Have enough to worry about yourself, no? Have you heard back from the hotel yet?”

“Not yet,” Valtteri said.

Felipe stood to take their plates back into the kitchen and Valtteri followed him like a lost puppy. He wasn’t going to let Felipe distract him and he wasn’t going to let this go.

“Rob would not treat you right,” Valtteri said as Felipe dumped the plates into the sink.

“What?”

“I do not think Rob would treat you right,” Valtteri said, stopping Felipe from washing the plates with a hand around his wrist.

“You don’t know Rob,” Felipe said, gently, turning to Valtteri.

“Saw you the other night,” Valtteri said. “Saw you both the other night. Saw how you looked at him and how happy you were and he _didn’t care_. He would not treat you right, Felipe. Please do not get caught up on him.”

Felipe didn’t answer for a while. Valtteri’s hand had slipped down from his wrist and into his hand, their fingers laced together.

“Do not have to worry about me,” Felipe said, quietly.

“Cannot help it when I care about you,” Valtteri said. “Rob is hurting you now and if you were ever together he would hurt you even more.”

“You don’t know Rob,” Felipe said again, his eyes turned down to the floor again. One hand still holding Felipe’s, Valtteri lifted the Brazilian’s chin again.

“I know you,” Valtteri said softly.

Felipe watched Valtteri’s eyes flick over his face. They left his own eyes, moving down to where Valtteri’s thumb met Felipe’s bottom lip.

“No,” Felipe said, definitely, stepping away from Valtteri. He shook his head. “Valtteri?”

“I’m sorry,” Valtteri said, quickly, his face going red again.

“Why would you-? What are you-? Valtteri?”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know.”

Felipe sighed, watching tears begin to well in Valtteri’s eyes.

 _Remember when you were in his position?_ , a voice in his head that sounded a lot like Rob said.

“Come here,” Felipe said, holding out his arms for a hug.

Valtteri stared at him in disbelief, the colour still growing in his cheeks. He shook his head, because all this was embarrassing enough without Felipe making it worse, but gave in almost immediately and fell into Felipe’s hug.

“Cannot do this, Valtteri,” Felipe said, gently. “Is not allowed on the scheme. Is not fair on you, or on Toto either. What about him? Thought you loved him?”

“If there was no Toto?” Valtteri asked, pulling away. “If there was no Toto and there was no scheme and I was a normal person, then what?”

“But there is Toto,” Felipe said. “And there is the scheme and I am not allowed to be with you, Valtteri, no matter what, and that’s the way things are.”

“Bullshit,” Valtteri snapped, pushing himself away from Felipe and hurrying out of the room.

“Valtteri, wait,” Felipe called after him, but the front door had already slammed shut.

 

“Well, this is unexpected,” Toto said when he opened the front door.

“ _They’re_ not here, are they?” Valtteri asked, stood outside, awkwardly. If they were in, he would leave. He didn’t know where he would go, but he wasn’t coming in.

“No, they’re not,” Toto said.

“Good,” Valtteri said, pushing past Toto into the house. He slammed the door shut, grabbed hold of Toto’s shirt and pulled his boyfriend down into a kiss. Toto let him take control, but lifted Valtteri up to sit on the cabinet to save his own back. Valtteri’s fingers fumbled with the buttons on Toto’s shirt, his mouth moving to the skin he exposed before hurrying back to Toto’s lips before the older man could ask any questions. Toto only pulled away when he felt tears that were not his own on his face.

“Val?”

Tears streamed down Valtteri’s face and he slid off of the cabinet and onto the floor to the floor, his legs turning to jelly beneath him. Toto sat next to him, panicking as he tried to figure out what he’d done wrong.

“Val? What’s the matter?”

“Have done something really stupid,” Valtteri said. “And you’re going to hate me.”

“Hate you?” Toto asked. “Val, I could never hate you. What’s happened? What have you done?”

He took a tissue from his pocket to wipe Valtteri’s eyes, thumb gently brushing the Finn’s scratch marked cheek.

“I promise not to hate you.”

“I tried to kiss Felipe,” Valtteri whispered. He was such an idiot. He was such a _stupid_ idiot. And now Felipe was going to try to kick him out, and he’d tell Rob, because he told Rob _everything_ , and Rob would have him taken away and he didn’t have anywhere else to go.

“You tried to… kiss Felipe?” Toto said, slowly, looking down at Valtteri as he nodded. “But why? Has he said something to you?”

Valtteri shook his head. “I don’t know. Am an idiot. Am so, so sorry, Toto.”

“It’s ok,” Toto said, putting an arm around Valtteri. “You don’t need to be sorry. Nothing happened. You didn’t do anything.”

“Should not have come here, but I just wanted you to know I love you,” Valtteri mumbled, stumbling over his own words. Tears were still streaming down his face and the soggy tissue in his hands was useless now. “And I do, Toto. I really, really love you.”

“I know,” Toto said, gently. “It’s ok. It was just a mistake. It was just a stupid mistake, and that’s ok.”

“You forgive me?” Valtteri asked, sniffing.

“Of course I forgive you,” Toto said, placing a kiss on Valtteri’s forehead. “Felipe, though…”

“Was not him,” Valtteri said, quickly. “He stopped it. He didn’t want it. It was all me. Please don’t be angry at him, Toto. He didn’t do anything.”

“Alright,” Toto said, rubbing circles into Valtteri’s back and trying to calm him down a little. “Alright. But… are you ok living there?”

“Think he’s going to kick me out,” Valtteri mumbled. “Or he’s going to go to Rob and kick me out and I don’t _want_ to leave. Are going to think I’m stupid and selfish, I know. But have nowhere else to go, except here, and Nico and Lewis come here and don’t say you won’t let them, Toto, because I am not taking you away from your friends. And I _like_ it with Felipe. Is not as if anything like that is going to happen again and-.”

“I get it,” Toto said, laughing. “It’s ok, I get it.”

“You do?”

“Yeah,” Toto said. “And I also think, if you want to stay there, then you are going to have to talk to him, yes? Should be there, not here.”

“But…” Valtteri looked up at Toto again. How he had ended up with someone as understanding as this, he didn’t know. Toto wiped his eyes with a thumb, smiling down at him. “Wanted you to know I love you.”

“I know,” Toto promised. “I love you too.”

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, this chapter is not so good but stick with me.

Felipe was getting ready for work when he heard the front door shut again. He hadn’t phoned Rob yet. He hadn’t done much, except replay the last few weeks over and over in his head because what on earth had he done to make Valtteri think he could do something like that?

He was going to have to talk to him. He was going to have to explain to Valtteri or… or something. Not that he really understood it himself.

They’d been through this, though. They’d gone through everything during the preparation for having Valtteri move in with him. Rob had gone through case study after case study with him and he knew what he had to do.

But he hadn’t phoned Rob yet, and that was step one.

“Valtteri?” Felipe asked, coming down the stairs. Valtteri stood in the hallway with his back to the door and hi eyes closed, taking deep breaths and wishing he wasn’t such an idiot. Everything would have been easy if he wasn’t such an idiot. “Come into the living room and sit down. You look as if you are going to throw up.”

He tried to pull Valtteri into the living room, but the Finn threw him off of him.

“Don’t touch me!”

“Ok,” Felipe said, quickly, backing off with his hands up in a surrender. “Val?”

“Have you phoned Rob?” Valtteri asked.

“Not yet,” Felipe said, quietly. “Am going to have to.”

“And he’s going to take me away from you, isn’t he?” Valtteri said. Felipe wasn’t the only one who’d heard stories. He’d sat with other kids in emergency foster care because their foster parents weren’t suitable to be parents. He’d heard this story over and over and he _knew_ he was an idiot.

“Probably,” Felipe said. “Valtteri, I don’t want that to happen, but is to protect you.”

“Do not _need_ protecting, Felipe,” Valtteri said. “I made a mistake. Don’t want to go either. Please don’t make me go.”

_Don’t let them take me away Mama._

_Please Mama. Will be a good boy. Promise. Please don’t let them take me away._

_Am your little boy Mama. Cannot do this. Cannot just abandon me, Mama, please._

“You and Toto are the only people who have ever cared about me. Not because it’s your job. Not because you do not have a choice. You care about me. Please don’t send me away. Felipe?”

Felipe took a deep breath and shook his head. He couldn’t believe he was about to say this. What had he been told? What had he been through again and again with Rob and everyone else? If something like this happened, he was to phone Rob. They were to sort things out.

“Won’t phone Rob.”

“Really?” Valtteri asked, surprised.

“Yes,” Felipe said. “But we need to talk about this, yes? It cannot happen again.”

“No, and it won’t,” Valtteri said, quickly. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“It’s ok,” Felipe insisted before Valtteri almost winded him, wrapping his arms around the Brazilian. Felipe patted him, uncertainly. “I need to go to work,” he said, quietly.

“Throw a sickie,” Valtteri said, pulling away from Felipe nervously, the tops of his cheeks pink again.

“Am supposed to be a good influence on you,” Felipe said. “Cannot throw a sickie.”

“Please,” Valtteri said. “You said we need to talk about it. So let’s talk.”

Felipe tried to come up with an answer, but he knew Valtteri was right. “Fine,” he said. “Give me ten minutes.”

…

Felipe kissed his way down from Rob’s jaw to his chest, pausing for a moment at a spot on the Brit’s neck he knew would make Rob moan. He grinned at the sound, catching Rob’s eye for a moment before moving further down, his fingers hooked in the waist band of Rob’s boxers.

“No. Fuck, Felipe, _no_.”

Rob’s fingers were tangled in Felipe’s hair and he tugged to pull the Brazilian up. They needed to do this, no matter how good not doing it felt.

“Rob?” Felipe asked, looking up at the Brit with a pout on his face. They’d done this enough times before for Felipe to know what Rob liked. So, if Rob was getting second thoughts… “Has something happened? Rob, are you ok?”

“I’m fine, Felipe,” Rob said, gently. Felipe knew he couldn’t resist that pout and his thumb gently brushed against it before coming around to lift his chin. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” Felipe said quickly when Rob took a breath.

Rob sighed, his other hand running through the Brazilian’s hair. “We can’t do this anymore.”

“What?” Felipe pulled away from him, disgusted. “Why not?”

“It’s not right.”

“It was not right yesterday, but we still do this,” Felipe pointed out. “Was not right when we started this, but we still do it. Rob, what has changed? What have I done?”

“ _You_ haven’t done anything,” Rob insisted. “We just can’t do this anymore. I’m not going to let you. It wasn’t right before and it was selfish of me to let this happen.”

“So you tell me now?” Felipe asked, angry. Angry and confused and disgusted.

“I’ve been trying to tell you for weeks,” Rob snapped. “Hasn’t exactly been easy for me either, mate, and you wouldn’t listen, but I couldn’t let it happen.”

Felipe shook his head, as if that might make things clearer to him. Rob couldn’t be doing this now. It wasn’t _fair_.

Rob looked away, uncomfortably dressing whilst Felipe watched him.

“They found out, didn’t they?” Felipe said.

Rob still wouldn’t look at him, rubbing the back of his neck and falling back to lean against the wall. “Not exactly.”

“Not exactly?”

“My boss knows but she hasn’t _said_ ,” Rob said. “But she made it pretty clear that this needs to stop, or I need to kick you out.”

“They cannot do that,” Felipe said. “Cannot tell you how to live your life.”

“They can when I work for them,” Rob said. “You don’t get it, Felipe. I work for them, you’re a service user.”

“Have explained all this before,” Felipe said. “Do not treat me like an idiot, Rob. But… but is not _fair_.”

“It’s there to protect you, Felipe,” Rob said.

“Maybe I leave,” Felipe said. “Will go, and then there will not be any problem. Then we can be together.”

“You’ve got nowhere else to go,” Rob pointed out. It was no use. They’d been through all their options dozens of times before. Sometimes it seemed like all Rob did when they were together was try to come up with a way this could work, but there _wasn’t_ one. “I’m sorry.”

“I know,” Felipe said, quietly, all the anger and fight melting out of him.

“But we can still be friends, yeah?” Rob said, hopefully, as if that was some kind of consolation prize.

“Yeah,” Felipe said, making it very clear it wasn’t. “Yeah, I guess.”

…

Valtteri was waiting on the sofa when Felipe came in from the kitchen. He had no idea how good his sick voice was, but his boss had gone along with it and he had the evening off. He sighed when Valtteri looked up at him and tried to give him a smile, but it wasn’t working.

“You are not a child,” Felipe said, eventually. He didn’t know how he was supposed to explain this without sounding completely patronizing, and he knew Valtteri wasn’t going to sit and listen to that. “But they say you are still vulnerable. And they say maybe people with… more power will use that to get what they want. And maybe it isn’t the case, and maybe it is love, but they do not want people in control to pretend it is love just to get what they want and hurt people. I think you understand this?”

Valtteri nodded. He understood. He didn’t _like_ it, but he understood.

“And, if it were to happen, it would stop me taking in anyone else once you get yourself on your feet,” Felipe said. “Is not just about us, you see.”

“I get it,” Valtteri said. “But it isn’t fair.”

Felipe cringed. Didn’t he know it?

“I know,” he said, softly, coming over to sit beside Valtteri. “And I’m sorry.”

“But that’s the way things are?” Valtteri finished.

“That’s the way things are,” Felipe repeated. “But it doesn’t matter. You have Toto. I’m fine. And it’s not going to happen again.”


	14. Chapter 14

“Where did you go?” Felipe asked, putting a mug of coffee in front of Valtteri.

The Finn wouldn’t look at him, pulling the mug into his hands and lifting it to his mouth to stop him answering for a little while. Felipe stood awkwardly by the kettle, not sure if he should sit next to Valtteri now or not.

“To Toto’s,” Valtteri answered eventually.

“And does Toto…” He nodded, as he would have done with Rob, but Valtteri wasn’t looking at him, and Felipe didn’t know if he would understood anyway. “Does Toto know?”

The last thing he needed was Toto to come over, ranting and shouting as if _he_ had done something wrong.

Valtteri nodded.

“And…?”

Valtteri shuddered and put the mug down. “He’s ok with it.”

“What?”

“Told him what happened,” Valtteri mumbled, not taking his eyes off of his drink. “Told him it was a mistake. Told him it is not going to happen again. And he is ok.”

“And you are both…” Felipe nodded again, leaning against the counter. He wanted to make sure he didn’t have Toto to worry about. “You are still together.”

“Yeah,” Valtteri said, only now looking up from the cup. “He loves me, and I love him. We are not going to let this get between us.”

“Alright,” Felipe said, nodding. He didn’t really believe it. Surely Toto must have had something to say about it all. He couldn’t imagine himself being so calm about the situation if it were his boyfriend making moves on another man. “Guess this is a good thing.”

“Toto is good,” Valtteri mumbled, lifting the mug of coffee to his face again.

 

“I got it,” Valtteri said, quietly. He was sat on the sofa when Felipe came down the stairs in the morning, his phone in his hand and a smile on his face. He looked up at Felipe, trying to swallow his smile and not look as proud of himself as he was.

Felipe frowned, a little confused. “Got what?”

He didn’t want to go over what had happened again. He had been pretty sure when he’d gone to bed that Valtteri knew what was going on and why.

“The job,” Valtteri said, tapping his phone to his chin. “They gave me the job.”

“You did?” Felipe said, a smile immediately bursting onto his face. “Valtteri, that’s great! Congratulations!”

“Is just a cleaning job,” Valtteri said, quietly.

“Doesn’t matter,” Felipe said. “This is great. Should do something. Celebrate.”

“I’m going to Toto’s,” Valtteri said, standing. He’d already checked with his boyfriend that Lewis and Nico wouldn’t be there.

“Alright,” Felipe said. “Have you had something to eat?”

“I can look after myself,” Valtteri reminded him.

The smile on Felipe’s face fell as Valtteri brushed past him to leave, his brain struggling to come up with a reply to him.

“Valtteri?”

“Am _fine_ ,” Valtteri snapped.

Felipe followed him into the hallway. He should have known better than to think things were just going to go back to normal for them.

“Valtteri,” he said again, taking the Finn’s coat from him and hoping that was enough to stop him leaving for a moment. “Can we talk?”

“Have already talked,” Valtteri muttered.

“I know but…” Felipe was still searching for a reply. All the preparation he’d been doing could go out of the window now that he’d decided not to tell Rob and he had no idea what he was supposed to be doing now. Other than experience… “We can still be friends, right?”

“Friends?” Valtteri spat. “Would like that, wouldn’t you? Me looking up at you like you do to Rob. Maybe would make you feel less pathetic?”

“Valtteri?”

What on earth had happened?

“I’m going to Toto’s.”

The door slammed shut behind him.

 

“What’s up with you?” Cathy asked, throwing a napkin at Felipe.

Felipe jumped with the cloth hit his face, frowning at Cathy when he resurfaced from his thoughts. “What?”

“You?” Cathy said. “What’s the matter? This isn’t because of what I told Valtteri, is it? I was just having a laugh. Trying to make friends, you know?”

“Trying to cause more trouble more like,” Felipe said, taking the napkin off of the table beside him and folding it. He smiled, but Cathy didn’t believe him, folding her arms. Felipe rolled his eyes and fell into one of the chairs. “Am fine.”

“I didn’t think you’d mind,” Cathy said. “It was just a little joke.”

“Is fine, Cathy,” Felipe said, tired. He’d already snapped at her enough after Jason’s birthday drinks. He didn’t need to fall out with her over this as well. It wasn’t really her fault and she’d only start asking questions if he got really annoyed. “Am fine. Everything is fine.”

“Doesn’t look like it,” Cathy said, leaving her napkin folding duties to come and sit opposite him. “What’s up?” she asked, gently.

“Am. Fine.”

“Is it because I told him about Rob?” Cathy asked again. “Because I really didn’t think it would be that big a deal, you know? And you said yourself he doesn’t really know anything about you. I thought it might make him feel more comfortable, you know? It’s not like you still like Rob or anything.”

Felipe rolled his eyes again. Telling her he was fine wasn’t going to work, but he didn’t really feel like talking about all his problems with someone as lose lipped as Cathy. That hadn’t exactly done him a lot of good last time.

“You don’t… you don’t still like Rob, do you?” Cathy said, a sudden realisation widening her eyes. She stared at Felipe, waiting for her confirmation, but Felipe got the impression she wouldn’t listen if he denied it.

“No,” Felipe said. “It’s fine. We had a good laugh about it.”

“Then what is it?” Cathy asked. “You’re going to have to tell me. I’ll find out anyway.”

“You’re very sure about that,” Felipe said.

Cathy smiled smugly and stood to return to the napkins. “Because I always do, Felipe. You’re rubbish at keeping secrets.”

She hadn’t found out about the crash, Felipe thought, watching the girl as she smirked at him, thinking she had everything figured out.

“I’ll ask Valtteri if I have to,” Cathy warned, folding the napkins without even looking at them.

“You leave Valtteri alone,” Felipe said. “Has enough to deal with without nosey waitresses sticking their noses in. Is nothing wrong with me, Cathy. I am fine. Valtteri is fine. Leave us alone.”

He was saved from continuing the conversation by the head waiter sending him off to find more cutlery. Cathy watched him closely as he left, but Felipe just shook his head. He’d let her think whatever she wanted to think. Maybe she would stop talking about it eventually.

 

“And he isn’t going to tell this Rob?” Toto asked, spooning stew into a bowl for Valtteri.

Valtteri shook his head. “Said he wouldn’t, anyway. Have to trust him.”

“And you do?” Toto asked, bringing the food over and sitting opposite Valtteri at the table. “Have already said he tells Rob everything. Are you sure he isn’t? I mean, I know it meant nothing, but does he?”

“Of course,” Valtteri said, confused. “Was him who stopped it, Toto. Is not going to do anything.”

“You’re sure?” Toto asked.

“ _Yes_ ,” Valtteri said, even more confused before. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“There is a reason these things aren’t allowed,” Toto said, slowly.

“Yes, I know that,” Valtteri said, the confusion turning to annoyance. “And I said I was an idiot. What’s the matter? You were fine last night.”

“I have been thinking,” Toto said.

Valtteri waited for him to continue, but his boyfriend just turned to his stew, blowing it gently before putting the spoon in his mouth.

“And?” Valtteri prompted.

Toto rolled his eyes and swallowed his food. “I want you to move in with me.”

“What?”

“It does not make any sense you living with some stranger when you could stay with me,” Toto said. “You have your job. You do not need this scheme any more. You can come and live with me.”

“I want to stay with Felipe,” Valtteri said. They’d gone through all this last night. He’d explained why he wanted to stay with Felipe and that wasn’t changing.

“Why?” Toto asked, putting his spoon down.

“What?”

“Why do you want to stay with him?” Toto asked. “Because you fancy him? You are going to stay there and hope for the best. And if he does decide to break the rules – the rules that are there to protect you – then you dump me? You are just waiting to see what happens?”

“No,” Valtteri said. “No, I want my own independence, and I can do that with Felipe.”

“You can do that with me,” Toto said. “When have I ever tried to make you do something?”

“Other than now?” Valtteri asked, bitterly.

“I am trying to save our relationship,” Toto said. “Maybe it is useless, when you would rather be with Felipe than me.”

“It. Was. A. mistake,” Valtteri said slowly. “What is the matter with you? Have told you all this. Want to be with you, not Felipe. Would not be here if I did not want to be. I love you.”

He reached across the table to hold Toto’s hand. They weren’t going to have an argument over this. He wasn’t going to let this stupid mistake break them. Toto sighed and smiled when Valtteri squeezed his hand.

“I love you too,” he said, quietly. “I’m just… I just worry.”

“It is never going to happen again,” Valtteri promised.

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, things are probably about to go down hill from here. Sorry about that. Storyline too good for the writer and all that.

When Valtteri began work he found it repetitive, which was good. Whilst everything else seemed to be a mess at the moment, he was glad of the routine and order of it all, falling quickly into the hotel’s works as if he’d been there all along. Rob kept saying how good it was, and how good it would be for him to move up the ladder, but he liked it where he was and kept his head down. The people he worked with were nice, and they joked about how tedious the work was once they realised exactly nobody cared what they said about the job, but Valtteri was glad to actually have something to do.

At home with Felipe had become awkward, no matter how much he tried to make things as if it had never happened, not that he had helped the situation at all, he was sure. At Toto’s was awkward, no matter how much Toto tried to pretend that nothing had happened and he was ok with it all. Everything else was falling apart, but at least he had a job now. And friends.

“We’re going to the pub after work today,” one of his co-workers, Emilia, said, piling Valtteri’s arms up with towels to load the trolley with. “Friday ritual. You coming? We’ve missed you the last couple of weeks.”

“Huh?”

“The pub,” Emilia repeated, grinning. “You go there to get drunk and eat nuts.”

“Know what a pub is,” Valtteri said, smiling back, “Tonight?”

“Yeah,” Emilia said. “Think this is the point of it being a _Friday_ ritual.”

“Ha ha,” Valtteri said, carefully placing the towels onto the trolley before returning for more. “Can’t tonight. Is my boyfriend’s birthday.”

“We’re not going to be staying late,” Emilia said.

“No,” Valtteri said, sternly. He wanted things to get back to normal between him and Toto, and that meant he would not be going out with a bunch of people he hardly knew on his boyfriend’s birthday, no matter how tempting it sounded.

They were going to have a quiet night in, just the two of them for a change. It had been Toto who had suggested it and it sounded perfect to Valtteri. Maybe this could be the beginning of things getting back to normal for them, and Toto would have finally put the whole Felipe thing behind him.

“Alright then,” Emilia said. “But next week, yeah?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“You know, we are not going to bite you or anything,” Emilia said with a smile. “Is ok to hang around with us outside of work.”

“Yeah, I know,” Valtteri said. That didn’t explain the fact that he’d been working here for a couple of weeks now and had not once contacted anybody outside of work. He got on with Emilia and the others well enough – well enough to be friends and to go drinking together after work – but he just didn’t speak to them.

He didn’t want them involved in any of the rest of the mess he had made.

“Good,” Emilia said. “Well, as long as you know.” She patted the top of the pile of blankets and led Valtteri back to the trolley. “Are you _sure_ you can’t come?”

“Am sure,” Valtteri said. He wasn’t going to get dragged into anything like Cathy had dragged Felipe out. “Next week.”

 

“There’s pasta in the fridge is you want it,” Felipe called when he heard the door downstairs shut.

They hadn’t eaten together since the “incident”. Felipe had tried to get him to come and eat with him, tried to make sure he actually was eaten, but Valtteri had refused. He _was_ eating, and Rob had told Felipe that, as long he was eating, it would be ok. Had given him the same “remember when you were in his position” line which was making Felipe feel worse and worse the more times he used it.

There was no reply from down the stairs, and Felipe sighed, buttoning up the shirt he was changing into before coming down the stairs.

“Valtteri?”

Valtteri had put the last of the pasta in the microwave, waiting the standard minute before he could take his food back to his room. At least Felipe didn’t come uninvited into his room. It was better than any of his carers were, he supposed.

“What’s this?” Felipe asked, picking up the wrapped up gift that Valtteri had left on the side as he’d come in.

“Leave it,” Valtteri ordered, glancing over at it before turning back to the microwave.

“Ok,” Felipe said, slowly, putting it back down. “What is it?”

“For Toto,” Valtteri said. “Is his birthday.”

“Oh,” Felipe said, putting the kettle on. It was probably one of the longest conversations he’d had with Valtteri for a while. “Are you doing anything special?”

“Just going to his house,” Valtteri said, purposefully not looking at Felipe. He just wanted to eat his food, change, and go with as little talking as possible. Why was that too much to ask for?

“That should be fun for you,” Felipe said, doing his best to ruin Valtteri’s plans. “Would you like some coffee?”

“No.”

“Alright then,” Felipe said, slowly. “Well, tell Toto happy birthday from me.”

Valtteri nodded, taking his food from the microwave and heading straight back up the stairs.

 

Valtteri smiled sheepishly, curling his fingers into the bottom of his top nervously. He had no idea if Toto was going to like his gift and he’d wanted to do something special but he still hadn’t been paid, having to _borrow_ the money from Felipe until he was paid.

He watched Toto unwrap the gift, twisting the fabric on the bottom of his shirt as tight as it could go. It was just a book – a book he _knew_ Toto wanted, but still just a book – and it wasn’t good enough. After everything Toto had done for him…

Toto beamed when he saw the book, settling Valtteri’s nerves a little.

“You remembered?” he asked, grinning.

Valtteri nodded. “Of course.”

“Come here,” Toto said, finding space for the book on the coffee table and pulling Valtteri into a hug. Valtteri moved closer to him, leaning into the hug and smiling up at him. “You are a star.”

“Is nothing,” Valtteri said. “Am sorry I couldn’t do more for you.”

“There is nothing more I want,” Toto insisted. “Just you.”

“Well, can do that,” Valtteri said, leaning up to kiss Toto.

Toto shifted when there was a knock at the door. He rolled his eyes, swiped a kiss from Valtteri’s lips and stood. Valtteri frowned.

“Who is it?” he asked.

“I don’t know, yet, Val,” Toto laughed. “Can’t see through walls.”

“Make them go away?” Valtteri asked.

Toto grinned. “I’ll make them go away,” he promised. “Just a second.”

Valtteri sighed, sinking back into the sofa and watching Toto leave. Maybe things were getting back to normal now. He hadn’t seen Toto smile like that since they’d argued, and he had really liked the book…

“Toto! Happy birthday!”

Valtteri jumped up as soon as he heard the voices. The door slammed into the wall behind it and Valtteri knew – because this was Toto and _he wouldn’t really have a choice –_ Toto was letting them in.

“Val!” Nico said, coming into the living room. “Nice to see you again. No hard feelings about last time, hey?”

“Don’t call me Val,” Valtteri said, his hands balling into fists before he could stop himself. Toto gave him an apologetic look as he came into the living room, but it wasn’t going to be enough. “Get them out.”

“Come on, Val,” Nico laughed, planting himself on the sofa and kicking his feet up onto the coffee table. “It’s _his_ birthday.”

“Valtteri,” Toto said, sadly, holding out his arms as if he couldn’t do anything. As if Valtteri was just supposed to let this happen.

Valtteri crossed his arms, glaring at Lewis as he dumped himself next to Nico. They both grinned up at him.

“Either they go or I do,” Valtteri said.

“Oh, don’t be such a baby, Val,” Nico moaned. “It’s his birthday, let him do what he wants. You don’t have to be a controlling freak every day of the year.”

“I’m not,” Valtteri said, before biting his lip. He wasn’t going to get into an argument with them. He wasn’t even going to speak to them. They didn’t deserve it. “Toto?”

“Valtteri,” he said again, uselessly.

Valtteri shook his head. He wasn’t going to do it. Of course he wasn’t going to.

“Fine,” he said, going the long way around the coffee table so he didn’t have to get Nico and Lewis to move their legs. He glared at Toto as he left the room. Maybe this was his fault. Why would Toto choose him over his friends, when he went around trying to kiss other people?

“Valtteri, wait!”

Toto followed him into the hallway where he was trying to put his coat on.

“Please don’t go.”

“Have told you, am not spending any time with them,” Valtteri said. “Is clear you would rather be with them than me anyway, so I will just go.”

“No,” Toto said. “I cannot exactly kick them out, though, can I? Please. Stay.”

Valtteri shook his head again, not looking at Toto as he spoke.

“It’s my birthday,” Toto reminded him.

“I can’t,” Valtteri said, weakly.

“They will be gone soon enough,” Toto said. “A couple of drinks and that will be it. Then it’ll be just us again, like we planned.”

He slipped his hand into Valtteri’s, rubbing the back of it with his thumb. Valtteri sighed. He couldn’t believe he was agreeing with this. But if Toto wanted him to stay after everything he’d done.

“Alright,” he said, quietly. “But they had better be gone soon.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, sorry about this.

“Here,” Lewis said, handing Valtteri a glass. The Brit was already drunk. They both were.

Valtteri had decided he wasn’t drinking. He wanted to be sober once Lewis and Nico were gone, and he was determined not to let the pair of idiots ruin Toto’s birthday. But he also knew they weren’t going to let him off with not having a drink, which was why the last two glasses he’d been given had been discreetly tipped into a potted plant and Valtteri was doing his best to put on an act so neither of them decided it would be a good idea to pour the alcohol down his throat themselves.

At least Toto wasn’t drinking, Valtteri thought, glancing over to where Nico was trying to get him to take a swig from the bottle he was drinking from. Hopefully he’d get rid of them soon and they could both get back to what they had planned.

“ _Nico_!” Toto snapped as Nico’s hand slipped and the bottle of alcohol was poured down Toto’s shirt.

“Oops,” Nico said, grinning.

Toto sighed, almost as annoyed as Valtteri was, and Valtteri couldn’t help but smile. They were getting kicked out soon. He was sure of it.

“I’m going to get changed,” Toto said, pausing on his way past the sofa to kiss Valtteri before heading up the stairs.

“Hey kid,” Nico said, falling onto the sofa. “Clean that up, will you?”

Valtteri looked over at the mess Nico had caused and considered arguing, but it wasn’t worth the trouble if they were just going to be gone in a couple of minutes or so anyway, and he stood, heading into the kitchen to get a mop, placing his empty glass down on the table.

Trying to keep up his “I _am_ drunk, look!” image, Valtteri wobbled a bit in his short trip. Maybe he could convince Lewis and Nico that he really was getting better with his drink, but he didn’t think they’d fool for such a sudden recovery. They bother sniggered as he left and Valtteri smiled, convinced it was working.

Valtteri found the mop in the kitchen, trying not to think of what they would have done to him this time if he’d chosen to refuse. He took the mop back into the living room, thankful when Lewis slipped out of the room. At least he only had one dose of moronic comments to deal with as he cleaned up their mess. He could see Nico watching him, drink in his hand and a smile on his face, but the German stayed quiet. Maybe things were going up from here.

When he went back into the kitchen to return the mop, Lewis was stood at the counter, pouring something from a small bottle into an already full glass.

“What’s that?” Valtteri asked, standing the mop up against the back door where he had found it.

Lewis almost jumped out of his skin at the question, spinning round and shoving the bottle into his pocket.

“For you,” he said, handing Valtteri the drink. “For all your hard work.”

“What did you put in it?” Valtteri asked.

“Nothing.”

“Yes you did,” Valtteri said. “I saw you. What’s in your pocket?”

“Nothing,” Lewis said, shoving the glass into Valtteri’s hand and patting him on the back. “Drink up.”

“Not until you tell me what is in it,” Valtteri said. He looked down into the glass, but the drink was just clear, no sign of whatever Lewis had been putting in there.

“Nothing you’ve not had before,” Lewis said with a wink.

“What have you been putting in my drink?” Valtteri demanded, putting the glass back down on the side.

Lewis picked the glass back up, pressing the edge against Valtteri’s lips. “Drink.”

“Piss off,” Valtteri snapped, pushing Lewis away and spinning around, only to find Nico was stood in the doorway with a smirk on his face.

“Val, relax,” he said. “No need to start panicking.”

“Piss off,” Valtteri said again.

He made to barge past Nico, the idea of being stood between the two bullies not much fun to him, but Nico pushed him back into the room. Valtteri sighed, impatiently, and rolled his eyes.

“What now?” he asked again, unprepared for Nico to grab hold of his wrists and push him against the wall. “Nico-.”

Any other complaints were smothered when Nico covered Valtteri’s mouth against his own, slipping his tongue into Valtteri’s mouth and pressing his body against the Finn’s to keep him still. Nico’s hands fell from around Valtteri’s wrists and Valtteri didn’t want to know what he was planning on doing with them, pushing the German away from him.

“What are you doing?”

Nico smirked. “I thought you’d know better than to struggle by now, Val.”

Valtteri stared at him for a couple of moments, trying to make some kind of sense out of the comments and their owner’s actions, but Nico’s smirk just grew and Valtteri couldn’t think over the wave of nausea it caused. He shook his head quickly, because what he was thinking didn’t make any sense, and spun around. He looked between Nico and Lewis, refusing to believe what his mind came up with.

“Come here,” Nico said, taking hold of Valtteri’s hands again. Valtteri pulled himself away and, still shaking his head, darted out the room and up the stairs.

Toto was still in his bedroom, buttoning up another shirt. Valtteri didn’t know what was taking him so long and he didn’t care. He slammed the door shut, pushing Toto onto the bed and curling up in his lap.

“Kick them out.”

Unsurprisingly, Toto just laughed, trying to make Valtteri sit up. “What has gotten in to you, hey? Have only been gone for five minutes.”

“Have been putting something in my drink,” Valtteri said, refusing to sit up. “Were trying to… were going to…”

“Val, don’t be stupid,” Toto laughed, running his fingers through his boyfriend’s hair.

“ _Saw_ Lewis doing it,” Valtteri said. He wasn’t going to be treated like an idiot. He knew what he’d seen and Toto wasn’t going to get away with dismissing it as a joke or not. Maybe he was being a control freak but he didn’t care. He wanted them out, now. “Nico kissed me.”

“He _kissed_ you?”

“Kick them out.”

He knew the answers his brain was coming up with were wrong. Whatever Nico and Lewis were suggesting wasn’t true. Toto wouldn’t have let something like this happen before. There was no way he would be able to excuse it as a joke and he wouldn’t let it happen.

“Alright,” Toto said, lifting Valtteri off of him so he could stand up. Valtteri stood too. “I’ll go and sort things out, ok? You wait here.”

“Toto…”

“I will sort it out,” Toto promised, pressing a kiss to Valtteri’s forehead. “Wait here.”

Toto left the bedroom, shutting the door behind him and Valtteri waited a couple of moments before following him. It was _not_ that he didn’t trust his boyfriend, but he wanted to make sure Toto wasn’t going to treat this as another joke. He wanted to know Toto was taking this seriously.

“Are you two idiots?”

Valtteri waited at the bottom of the stairs, out of sight of everyone in the kitchen.

“Wejustdidwhatwenormallydo,” Nico said.

“And you normally let him catch you putting the drugs into his drink?” Toto asked.

Valtteri froze. No, he must have heard wrong, or understood wrong, or something.

“We thought he was off his face anyway,” Lewis said. “He’d had three drinks.”

“You mean you didn’t see him tipping them away?” Toto asked. “You really are idiots, aren’t you? How many times have we done this? I would have thought you would have known by now how to do it properly.”

Toto couldn’t know. He couldn’t be part of this. His Toto wouldn’t be part of this.

“Make him some coffee,” Toto said. “And you better hope he doesn’t remember all this in the morning.”

“Put the stuff in the coffee?” Lewis asked.

“Do you need to spell it out for you?” Toto asked.

The handle on the kitchen door began to turn, but Valtteri had already made up his mind, pulling the chain off of the front door with shaking fingers and leaving the house before any of them realised what he heard.

 


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how typical Valtteri's reaction is here. I just used the reaction of the person whose story inspired Valtteri's.  
> Again, sorry for the mess.

Felipe had only just set foot inside the restaurant when his phone started ringing. Cathy watched him with grin as he took his phone from his pocket.

“Who is it?” Cathy asked when he gave the phone a confused frown.

“Valtteri,” Felipe said. Why would Valtteri be phoning him?

“You better answer it then,” Cathy said.

“Yeah…” Felipe said, still trying to figure out why the Finn would be phoning him. He ducked into the break room, glad to find it empty, and shut the door before answering the phone. “Valtteri?”

Valtteri – or whoever was on the other end of the phone – didn’t answer, but Felipe was sure he could hear shaky breaths over the awful connection.

“Valtteri, are you there?” Felipe asked after a couple of seconds of silence.

Again, there was no reply, and Felipe was tempted to hang up, because why would Valtteri be phoning him anyway? It must have been an accident. But that didn’t explain the shaky breaths.

“Are you ok?”

“F… Felipe?” Valtteri managed to squeak before his voice cracked again and he let out a small sob that would have embarrassed him if he hadn’t had anything else to think about.

“Yeah, I’m here,” Felipe said, quickly, pressing the phone to his ear. “I’m here.”

“Can you- can you come and… and pick me up?” Valtteri asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.

“Pick you up?” Felipe said, confused and worried. “I thought you were with Toto?”

“I need you to pick me up,” Valtteri said, before sniffing hard and sobbing again. “Please. Just… just get a taxi or something, Felipe. I can’t go by myself.”

“Am working,” Felipe said.

“ _Please_ ,” Valtteri said, practically shouting compared to his tear choked words before.

“Alright,” Felipe said, gently. “Ok, I am coming. Where are you?”

“There’s a… a… fuck…”

“Stay calm, Valtteri, is ok,” Felipe said, gently.

“There’s an alleyway around the back of Marwood Drive in Eastford.”

“An alleyway?” Felipe asked. “Valtteri, why are you in an alleyway?”

“Will explain later,” Valtteri said.

“Alright, I’m on my way now,” Felipe said. “Am going to need to get off the phone to call a taxi though. But you phone me straight away if anything happens, ok?”

“Ok.”

Valtteri disconnected the call before Felipe could. He stared at the phone for a couple of moments, his heart thudding in his chest. Toto had done something to him. Everyone had been saying Toto was no good and he should have been protecting Valtteri from him and he’d just gone and let everything happened. He’d been right. He’d _known_ he wasn’t right for this kind of thing, but Rob had still let him do it. Now he was going to prove what a screw up he really was.

“Where are you going?” Cathy asked as he rushed back through the dining room.

“Valtteri needs me,” Felipe said. “Cover for me.”

“Cover for you?” Cathy asked. “You can’t leave.”

“Cover for me, or I will tell the boss it is you who has been taking food from the kitchen,” Felipe threatened. “Please, Cathy, this is important.”

“What am I supposed to say?” Cathy asked, following Felipe back out of the dining room so she didn’t have to shout to speak to him.

“I don’t care. Just do it.”

“Well, are you going to be back before service?” Cathy asked.

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“I do not know,” Felipe snapped, “Please, Cathy. Valtteri is in trouble and I am going to find him.”

 

Valtteri looked up whenever he heard footsteps past the entrance to the alleyway, but nobody had come down here just yet. He knew it wasn’t often used, having come here enough times with Toto when Toto had insisted on it. He hadn’t seen his boyfriend and his friends pass the entrance yet. Maybe they weren’t looking for him. Maybe they didn’t care.

Valtteri heaved again. He hadn’t actually been sick yet, but he definitely felt it.

He was such an idiot. He should have seen this. He should have realised.

Valtteri tried to think back to the last time he’d gotten drunk with Toto and the others, but there was nothing. It was all just blank. Every night he spent with them was just blank and it shouldn’t have been like that. It wasn’t like that when he’d gone out with Felipe. He’d no idea what had happened or what he’d done or what _they_ had done. All the times he’d been sick on his clothes. All the times he’d fallen down the stairs.

He was such an idiot.

Valtteri’s head shot up when he heard footsteps again, his heart pounding in his chest when he saw a pair of shoes stop at the entrance to the alleyway. If this was Toto and Nico and Lewis, there was nothing he could do. Maybe being sick on them would get them to let him go, but that was all he could do.

“Valtteri?” Felipe called, jogging down the alleyway. “Valtteri are you here?”

There were tears pouring down Valtteri’s face when Felipe found him, sitting on the floor with his knees tucked up to his chin. Felipe glanced back up the alleyway to where the taxi was waiting for them, then sat down beside Valtteri.

“Is a taxi waiting,” Felipe told him. “Cannot stay here long, or it will go. Are you ok?”

Valtteri looked at him as if he was mad, opening his mouth to answer but the words died in his throat. He shook his head instead. He wasn’t alright. He didn’t know what he was anymore but he wasn’t alright.

Felipe nodded as if that made perfect sense before hooking a hand under Valtteri’s arm and pulling him up.

“Come on then,” he said gently, wishing he had a tissue or something to clean up Valtteri’s face. “Let’s get you home.”

Felipe helped Valtteri into the taxi, catching him when his legs gave way before they could reach the car and helping him inside. Felipe gave the driver his address, helping Valtteri with his seat belt when his hands were shaking too hard. He wasn’t told Valtteri wasn’t a child. He wasn’t told Valtteri didn’t need help. Valtteri didn’t say anything, staring blankly at his hands with tears pouring down his face.

“Is ok,” Felipe said, gently, searching his pocket for some kind of tissue but finding nothing. “Will make things better. I promise.”

“Can’t,” Valtteri whispered. Felipe couldn’t make things better. Felipe couldn’t change what had happened, what they’d done.

“Is it Toto?” Felipe guessed. “Have you had an argument?”

Valtteri shook his head. He didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t want the lecture from Felipe. The “I told you so” from everyone else. He just wanted to… he just wanted to curl up and go to sleep and never wake up.

“Is it…” Felipe struggled to think of something else it could be. He needed to figure out what was wrong to help him and he was pretty sure Valtteri wasn’t going to tell him. “Is it work?”

“Please stop,” Valtteri whispered, his eyes closed whilst he focused on not being sick.

“Alright,” Felipe said, quietly, noticing how the Finn flinched when he patted his shoulder.

 


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I've no idea how typical this reaction is, and is only based on one person's story.

Valtteri had sat himself on the sofa and was now staring blankly into space whilst Felipe made tea. Felipe had three missed calls from Cathy and he had a feeling his boss had found out the truth but he didn’t care right now. Something was wrong with Valtteri and this was important.

“Are you hurt?” Felipe asked, placing the tea in Valtteri’s hands before sitting next to him with his own. “Physically?”

Valtteri shook his head, not reacting to the tea in his hands.

“Is Toto hurt?” Felipe asked.

Valtteri shuddered, but shook his head. He didn’t want to talk about him. He didn’t want to think about him.

“Has… has he done something to you?” Felipe asked. He didn’t know what was worse: him being wrong and having Valtteri storm off like he always did when someone said something against Toto, or being right.

Valtteri didn’t answer. His eyes focused a moment and he glanced over at Felipe before turning to his tea. Valtteri didn’t answer, but he did.

“Valtteri, what has he done to you?” Felipe asked, putting his tea down and turning to face Valtteri properly. When he tried to put his arm around the Finn, Valtteri flinched away. “I cannot make whatever has happened any better unless you tell me what has happened.”

“You can’t make it better anyway,” Valtteri mumbled into his tea. No amount of talking was going to make this better. No amount of tea or pasta or anything else Felipe had to offer was going to make this any better.

“Try me,” Felipe said. “What has he done to you?”

Valtteri looked up at Felipe again, trying to come up with a lie that would make the Brazilian leave him alone without making things any worse.

“Valtteri, are making me think the worst now,” Felipe said. “Tell me what has happened or I am phoning Rob.”

“Don’t.”

Rob would only make this worse. Maybe Felipe wouldn’t say I told you so, but Rob would. Rob would treat him like a child, wouldn’t listen to a word he said. At least Felipe wouldn’t treat him like an idiot.

“Well then?” Felipe asked. “Are you going to tell me?”

“They…” Valtteri tried to find the right words, but everything in his head was a jumbled up mess of noise and he realised now he’d probably just jumped to conclusions. He didn’t remember any of what had happened. Toto wouldn’t have let anything that bad happen to him. Not his Toto.

 _But_ _maybe_ _the_ _Toto_ _who_ _told_ _them_ _to_ _spike_ _your_ _tea_ , a voice in his head says, and he didn’t even realise he’s nodding until his head starts to hurt.

“They’ve been putting something in my drink,” Valtteri said, quietly. He looked up at Felipe, waiting for the Brazilian’s reaction. What was worse? Not being believed? Being told this was stupid and he must have gotten the wrong end of the stick? Or…

“He has been spiking your drink?” Felipe asked. “Since when?”

“I don’t know,” Valtteri mumbled. “Him and his friends. Caught them putting something in my drink today and heard Toto saying they had been doing it for a while and I have been _drinking_ that for I don’t know how long and I don’t remember what has happened and they were saying these things and they have said I have done things and I don’t remember any of it and I don’t know what to do.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Felipe said, taking the cup of tea from Valtteri and placing it down on the floor with his own. “Calm down, ok.”

“I can’t calm down,” Valtteri cried, tears choking his voice so much it hurt.

He fell into Felipe crying softly into his lap whilst the Brazilian gently rubbed his back and tried to think of something to say. When nothing came, he stayed silent.

Felipe’s phone buzzed again and he shifted Valtteri off of his lap a little so he could take it from his pocket. Cathy. Again. He was going to be in so much trouble…

“Please don’t phone Rob,” Valtteri whispered, looking up at Felipe.

“Was not going to,” Felipe said, sliding his thumb across the screen to ignore the call and putting his phone back in his pocket. “Ok, so… Toto has been spiking your drink. Have you had any today?”

Valtteri shook his head, wiping his eyes a little and sitting up. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to calm down a little. “Have not drunk anything today. They tried to make me, but I didn’t have any.”

“They?”

“Toto’s friends,” Valtteri said, quietly. None of this would have happened if Toto hadn’t let them in. They would have been fine alone.

“Alright,” Felipe said, clenching and unclenching his hand and trying to stop himself from shaking. He was supposed to be supporting Valtteri here, not getting into as much of a panic as Valtteri was in. “And you don’t remember what happened after you have drunk it?”

Valtteri shook his head again. He spent so much time shaking his head he was going to get dizzy, he thought.

“What are the things they’ve said you have done?” Felipe asked. He couldn’t tell if this was helping and knew it probably wasn’t but he wanted to make sure he had everything straight this time before he proposed what they did next, even though he knew Valtteri wouldn’t agree.

“They said…” Valtteri sighed and closed his eyes. “Do you remember the first day I came here? And I went to Toto’s?”

“Of course.”

_Well I don’t._

“I think they did it then,” Valtteri said, quietly. “And I don’t remember what happened, but I woke up in pain and in bed with Toto and one of his friends. And I wasn’t wearing anything. Nico said I was sick on my clothes and they had to put them in the wash. And he said I fell down the stairs and that’s why I hurt so much but I don’t remember it.”

He knew. He knew what had happened. Why would Nico and Lewis have said those things in the kitchen if their stories about when he was drunk were all true? Why would they say those things in the kitchen if it meant nothing? Valtteri’s stomach rolled and he swallowed the sick that was rising in his throat.

Felipe nodded. He’d gotten everything straight.

“Am going to have to phone Rob,” he said, quietly. He couldn’t handle something like this. Not on his own. They needed to phone the police and they needed to phone Rob.

“No,” Valtteri said, quickly, grabbing hold of Felipe’s hands before he could reach his phone. “You cannot tell anyone, Please.”

“Val, they spiked your drink,” Felipe said. “They…”

The word stuck in his throat but he knew Valtteri was thinking the same thing.

“Never said that,” he said.

“Cannot remember what happened,” Felipe said.

“So maybe it didn’t happen,” Valtteri said.

“Do you think that?” Felipe asked, seriously. “Do you think nothing happened, and whatever they have told you is the truth? If you thought that you would not be here, would you? You would still be with him.”

“Please don’t phone Rob.”

Valtteri didn’t even know why he didn’t want Rob to know so badly, but he couldn’t let Felipe tell the Brit. Nobody else could know.

“Alright,” Felipe said. “And the police?”

Valtteri shook his head. What good was that going to do when he couldn’t even remember what had happened?

“Ok,” Felipe said, quietly. “I won’t tell anyone. But you can change your mind, if you want to. And I do not think it is such a good idea to see Toto again.”

“I never want to see him again,” Valtteri muttered.

Felipe nodded. “Think that is for the best,” he said. “Why don’t you have a shower and I will make us something to eat.”

“Want to go to bed,” Valtteri said.

“Alright,” Felipe said. “Am going to go back to work, if you’re ok? But am always on the phone if you need me, alright?”

 


	19. Chapter 19

“I need your help,” Felipe said. He stood awkwardly by the door of Rob’s office, not really wanting to come inside and sit down like he usually did. Rob looked worried, hovering over his own seat and waiting for his friend to move, but Felipe stayed put.

“What’s wrong?” Rob asked.

“If I ask you something, will you just answer?” Felipe asked. “Not ask any questions, because I cannot answer them.”

“You know I can’t promise that,” Rob said. And Felipe _did_ know. He couldn’t count how many times Rob had told him that some things just couldn’t be kept confidential. Social workers or police officers or someone just _had_ to be phoned sometimes, and he couldn’t promise not to.

Felipe nodded. “If there is no _need_ to find out more, will you promise not to ask questions?” he asked.

Rob stopped hovering and fell into the chair, the look on his face the expression of a very tired man. Felipe swallowed, knowing how much Rob already had to deal with. Maybe that was a good thing. Maybe he would too busy to get into all this.

“Alright,” Rob said, eventually. “Now, what’s wrong?”

“Say you went to a party,” Felipe said, slowly. He’d already practiced what he was going to say, making sure he got the information he needed without dropping Valtteri into a mess the Finn didn’t want to get into. “And you got really drunk. And you _might_ have had sex with a stranger. What would you do in the morning?”

“You slept with a stranger?” Rob asked.

Felipe didn’t look up at Rob. It would be better if Rob thought it were him, he reasoned, and he was prepared for that. He was not going to go back on his promise to Valtteri.

“Felipe?” Rob asked again.

“Does it matter?” Felipe asked, his cheeks burning a little when he looked up and found his friend staring at him. “Just need to know what you would do next.”

“Why would you do something like that?” Rob asked.

“Am an adult,” Felipe said. “Can have sex with other adults if I want to. Is no law against it.”

“Thought you would have had some morals though,” Rob said.

“Morals?” Felipe asked. “What has it got to do with morals? And what does it have to do with you?”

“Don’t you think I deserve to know?” Rob asked.

“Why?”

This wasn’t quite how he imagined the conversation to have gone. He’d just thought Rob might be able to tell him what to do, to make sure Valtteri was actually ok and they really could put all this behind them, but apparently not.

“Would not have come here if I knew you were going to be an asshole about it,” Felipe said.

“I’m an asshole for caring about you?” Rob asked, standing again. “You can’t just go around sleeping with anyone.”

“Have slept with _one_ person,” Felipe said, narrowing his eyes. He couldn’t believe Rob was acting like this.

“A guy you didn’t even know.”

“So what?” Felipe said. “Are not my carer anymore, Rob. Do not need you to tell me what is right and what is wrong.”

“Well, it looks like I do.”

“Has _nothing_ to do with you,” Felipe snapped, glaring at Rob.

“So, after everything that’s happened, I don’t matter?” Rob asked.

“What?” Now he really wasn’t making any sense, and Felipe would have left if he had any idea what Rob was talking about.

“I love you, and you don’t give a shit, do you?” Rob said, coming out from around the desk.

“So that is it?” Felipe said, trying not to laugh. “You care because I was sleeping with someone who was not you? Is the first time I have slept with anybody since you left me-.”

“I didn’t leave you.”

“-And you are angry about it,” Felipe continued. “You can get on with your life but I cannot get on with mine, is that it?”

“I just don’t like the thought of someone using you like that, Felipe,” Rob said, gently. “I don’t like the idea of some drunk pervert with their hands all over you.”

He reached for Felipe’s hand but the Brazilian pulled it away.

“Am not yours anymore, Rob,” Felipe said. “Made it clear that we are just friends. And a friend would tell me what I need to do now.”

 

There were three men at his front door when Felipe eventually came back to the house. He recognised Toto before his bike had even stopped, but the other two were unfamiliar. He didn’t like it.

“Oi,” Felipe called, hopping off the bike and abandoning it to march up the garden path. “What do you want?”

“I need to speak to Valtteri,” Toto said.

Felipe looked between Toto and his friends, his hands curling into fists again but this time he couldn’t stop them shaking.

“Valtteri isn’t in,” Felipe said.

“Where is he then?” Toto asked.

“Work.”

“He doesn’t work on Saturdays,” Toto said, making the blond boy smirk.

“He does this Saturday,” Felipe lied. “Big convention or something. They needed everything there to run smoothly.”

Toto glared at Felipe but Felipe didn’t move from where he was stood. He wasn’t going to until all three of them were gone.

“You can’t stop me talking to him,” Toto said. “He’s going to have to at some point. I’m his boyfriend.”

“You are not anything to him anymore,” Felipe said. “Now piss off.”

“What has he said to you?” Toto asked, taking another step forward, his friends at either side of him. “Has he tried to make out _I_ am the bad guy here? After he goes around trying to kiss other men? I have done nothing but be understanding with him and he treats me like this.”

“Piss off,” Felipe said again. “Or I phone the police.”

“He has to come out and face what he has done at some point,” Toto said.

“I will tell him you called round, shall I?” Felipe said. “Now. Piss. Off.”

Toto glared at him, but didn’t say anything else, barging past Felipe and taking his friends with him. Felipe watched the three of them climb into a car that was parked on the double yellow lines outside of the house, waiting for it to disappear around the corner before heading inside.

Valtteri was sat at the bottom of the stairs, staring at the door.

“They are gone now,” Felipe said, not even taking his coat and shoes off before hurrying over.

“Will come back,” Valtteri mumbled, still staring at the door. “Cannot hide from them forever.”

“If they come back I will tell them to piss off again,” Felipe said. “And if they keep coming back I will call the police and have them done for harassment. They are not going to touch you again, Val.”

Valtteri shook himself and stood. Sitting here crying wasn’t going to help at all. Felipe smiled at him and took a handful of screwed up leaflets from his pocket, handing them to Valtteri before taking off his coat and shoes.

“What are these?” Valtteri asked, unfolding the first leaflet.

_Sexually Transmitted Infections: Tests and Treatment_

“Felipe?”

“Have to be sure,” Felipe said, following Valtteri into the living room. “Have said yourself you do not remember what happened. Do not know if they were being safe or not _if_ they did do anything, and you do not know if they are… healthy. Is better to be safe than sorry.”

“You went to a clinic?” Valtteri asked, flicking through the leaflets.

“Just want to make sure you are ok,” Felipe said. “And there are people you can go to. Not the police, but other people, who will not say anything but will make sure you are safe and looked after and have someone professional to talk to if you need it. Was talking to some very nice people. They have worked with victims before-.”

“Victims?”

“Rape victims,” Felipe said, quietly.

“I wasn’t raped,” Valtteri said.

“You do not know what happened,” Felipe said.

“I was not raped,” Valtteri said slowly, shuffling away from Felipe when the Brazilian moved a little closer.

“Fine,” Felipe said. “Believe whatever you want, but go to the clinic anyway, just to make sure.”

“Am fine,” Valtteri said. “Think I would know if I had some kind of disease.”

“Some people don’t,” Felipe said. “If you have nothing, then it will not take long, will it? Will be in and out and we can get on with forgetting about Toto and the others. But it will give me peace of mind. And it will make certain that you are as fine as you think you are. Can go tomorrow, if you want.”

“Have the meeting with Rob tomorrow,” Valtteri said.

Felipe groaned, running his hand through his hair. At least he didn’t have to be at the meeting. After that morning, he didn’t think a nice little chat with Rob would go down as well as it normally did.

“Can go before then,” Felipe said.

“I don’t want to go.”

“Have to make sure,” Felipe said. “Is important. Please.”

Valtteri looked down at the leaflets, his stomach turning, then looked up at Felipe.

“Fine,” he said, eventually. “But just to prove I am fine.”

 


	20. Chapter 20

Felipe had insisted on going with him to the clinic. He’d made up some rubbish about having to pay for the taxi, even when Valtteri had insisted he could walk. They sat together in silence in an almost empty waiting room. Every few minutes or so, Felipe would open his mouth to say something, change his mind, then shut it again.

“You didn’t have to come,” Valtteri said.

“Wanted to,” Felipe said.

“Wanted to make sure I actually came, more like,” Valtteri muttered.

“Maybe,” Felipe said, quietly. “Am just worried, Valtteri. Is important. Would not like it if you _had_ caught something and you move on with your life, only to drop down dead in two years’ time because of something they have done.”

“They didn’t _do_ anything,” Valtteri hissed, even though they both knew neither of them believed it.

The receptionist across the room caught Felipe’s eye and looked away quickly. Felipe shook his head and looked back down at the floor. Why it was taking so long, he didn’t know. The waiting room was practically empty besides them, and whoever was in there now was probably dying, the amount of time they had taken.

“They will ask you questions,” Felipe said. “About your sex life and stuff.”

“Am not going to discuss this with you, Felipe,” Valtteri muttered.

“I know,” Felipe said. “Just… make sure they know that Toto and the others could have done something to you, when you were drunk. It might be important.”

“They didn’t do anything.”

“It is important,” Felipe said again. “Know you don’t want to believe it is true, but it might be, and if you get really ill because you have not told the doctor about it then-.”

“Then what?” Valtteri asked. It wasn’t going to change anything, was it? He was still going to be some stupid freak, whether he had some disease or not.

“Then you will regret it,” Felipe said.

A couple left the doctor’s room behind the receptionist’s desk and a young woman followed them out, speaking quietly to the receptionist. The receptionist nodded over in their direction and Felipe nudged Valtteri to make sure he was paying attention, getting a glare from Valtteri for doing so. The woman came over, a smile painted on her face.

“Mr Bottas?”

Felipe nodded to Valtteri, nudging him again. Valtteri stood and shook the woman’s hand.

“I’m Dr. Sharpe,” the woman said. “Would you like to come with me? Your friend can come too, if you like.”

“No,” Valtteri said, bluntly. He looked down at Felipe, daring the Brazilian to move, but Felipe just stayed seated.

“Alright then,” the woman said. “Come along then?”

She led Valtteri away to the office behind the receptionist’s desk. Felipe watched him go in silence, preying Valtteri was going to do the right thing. He wasn’t a kid, but that didn’t mean he knew what the right decisions to make all the time, and it was Felipe’s job to show him. And he didn’t know if he’d managed to do that.

The doors opened and Felipe looked up from the leaflets he had been staring blankly at.

The leaflets fell from his hand as soon as he saw who worked in.

“Results for Alonso?”

He hadn’t changed a bit. Well, maybe a little, but it was definitely him leaning over the desk, smiling at the receptionist as she turned away to look through a file of papers.

Felipe didn’t even realise he was standing until Fernando looked over at him. The Spaniard’s smile fell for a moment, surprise wiping it off of his face for a moment.

“Felipe Massa,” Fernando said, the smile back on his face. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“What are you doing here?” Felipe said.

“What?” Fernando asked, coming over. “No “how have you been?”. No “good to see you”?”

“What are you doing here?” Felipe said again.

“Results,” Fernando said, taking the seat Valtteri had left and holding the brown envelope in his hands up. “Want to do the grand reveal with me, huh?”

Felipe didn’t say anything and didn’t sit down, watching Fernando open the envelope.

“All clean,” he said after a moment, grinning up at Felipe as if this was an accomplishment. “Was not expecting to see you here. What are you doing here?”

“None of your business.”

“I told you mine,” Fernando pointed out, taking hold of Felipe’s hand and pulling him into the chair beside him. “So what is it? Rob has given you something gross and disgusting.”

“Rob and I are just friends,” Felipe said.

“Of course you are,” Fernando said, turning to face Felipe and leaning an arm against the back of the chair.

“Am here with a friend,” Felipe said, not looking at Fernando. It was surreal. Fernando couldn’t be here. After so long, he couldn’t be back.

“Ah, another “friend”,” Fernando said, making the quotation marks with his fingers.

“Is a friend,” Felipe said, glaring at Fernando. Of course the Spaniard wouldn’t believe him, but he didn’t care. It was hardly as if he was going to go off and tell Rob his stupid theories.

“So, what have you been getting yourself up to,” Fernando asked. “Heard you had an accident.”

“It was months ago,” Felipe said, turning away from Fernando. “Was Rob’s accident. Was just caught up in it.”

“That’s not what I heard.”

“Does not matter what you heard,” Felipe snapped.

“Heard you were driving.”

Felipe paused a moment, glancing back up at the man he had once thought he’d known better than any other. Fernando couldn’t know. Nobody knew. Rob had made sure of that.

“Rob was driving,” he said.

“Sure,” Fernando said, the grin still in place.

Felipe just shook his head and collected together the leaflets he’d dropped.

“Are you still-?”

“Clean?” Felipe finished, before Fernando could. “Yes. Are not going to drag me back into that, Fernando. Have moved on with my life. Guess you have not.”

Fernando shrugged. “Is not a bad life. Wanted it yourself once.”

“And now I have a better one,” Felipe said.

“Taking your “friend” to check if they have an STI?” Fernando said. “Sounds like you are having a wonderful time.”

“And you are having things so much better?” Felipe snapped. He’d thought about meeting up with Fernando again more times than he could count. Valtteri was right, or at least Felipe had thought about it. Thought about taking Fernando in and looking after him and getting him onto the right track. Felipe must have forgotten what the Spaniard was really like.

Fernando just smirked.

 

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Dr. Sharpe said, placing the samples in a plastic bag and locking them in the top draw of her desk. “All kinds of people come here.”

“Am not ashamed,” Valtteri said. He’d done the test, or given them the things they needed to do the tests. Now he just wanted to go.

“Now,” The doctor slid a piece of card and another leaflet across her desk. “I have to give you this. These are the contact details of a sexual abuse centre.”

“Sexual abuse?” Valtteri repeated. He didn’t touch the leaflet or the card. “Have not been abused.”

“There’s a possibility you have been sexually abused,” the doctor said slowly. “From what you’ve told me, it seems very likely that you have been. Now, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, of course, but these people can give you support and advice. It’s worth going, even just once for a chat.”

Valtteri picked up the leaflet, flicking through it and finding lots of women smiling at one another, making hand gestures he didn’t understand.

“Have not been abused,” he said again. “Only came here to stop Felipe moaning.”

“Your friend?” the doctor asked. “I guess he knows what happened.”

“As much as I do,” Valtteri mumbled.

“Well, if you don’t want to talk to anyone from the centre, can you talk to him?” the doctor asked. “Even if you don’t know what happened, it might help to talk.”

“Do not want to talk,” Valtteri said. “Am fine. Am I done?”

“Yes,” the doctor said, standing. “It’ll take between one and two weeks for the results to come through. We’ll phone you when we get them, but you’ll need to come in to collect them. If something does come up, we can discuss and treatment that may be necessary.”

“Nothing is going to come up, but thank you” Valtteri said, not waiting for the doctor to lead him out before hurrying out of the room.

 

Fernando had watched him the entire time, the grin on his face never failing. Felipe just ignored him, pretending to read the leaflets he knew by heart now. When the door to the doctor’s office opened, he jumped up, glad to see Valtteri was in as much of a rush to go as he was.

“You must be Felipe’s friend,” Fernando said, following Felipe over to meet Valtteri.

“Come on, let’s go,” Felipe said, pulling Valtteri away from Fernando.

“Am Fernando,” Fernando said. “Felipe’s last “friend”.”

“Come on,” Felipe said through gritted teeth, pulling Valtteri out of the clinic.

“Well, beside Rob,” Fernando asked, following them out.

“Piss off, Fernando,” Felipe snapped. “Have moved on. Why don’t you?”

“Do you know Rob?” Fernando asked. “Hang on a second, sorry. I do not even know your name.”

“Piss _off_ , Fernando,” Felipe snapped again, taking out his phone to call for a taxi. He really should have called one already. He should have thought ahead.

“Fine,” Fernando said, stepping back. “Will see you around, I guess.”

The Spaniard winked at him before spinning around on his heel to walk up the street.

Valtteri wrapped his fingers around Felipe’s shaking hand whilst the Brazilian called for a taxi, watching Fernando leave.

 


	21. Chapter 21

“So, that was Fernando,” Valtteri said once they were in the taxi. “What was he doing here?”

“Collecting results,” Felipe said. He didn’t want to talk about Fernando. Not with Valtteri. The Spaniard was part of his old life and he wanted Valtteri to have nothing to do with that. “When do you get yours?”

“Will phone me when they’re ready,” Valtteri said. “Fernando seemed…”

“Is an asshole,” Felipe said.

“What did he mean about Rob?” Valtteri asked.

“Nothing,” Felipe said, looking out of the window so he didn’t have to look at Valtteri. “Was just doing it to wind you up. Thinks we are together.”

“You told him that?”

“He makes up his own mind,” Felipe said. He smiled weakly at Valtteri. At least, coming out of all this, they were on speaking terms again. There was a silver lining to every cloud and this cloud was pretty toxic, but it still had one.

Valtteri smiled back.

 

Rob was waiting for them when they arrived back at the house, standing outside with a confused smile.

“Where have you two been?” he asked as Felipe unlocked the front door.

Valtteri opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, struggling to come up with a reply, but Felipe answered for him.

“The clinic,” he said, letting Valtteri go inside. “Valtteri came for moral support.”

“And you’re… you’re ok?”

“Will phone me when they get my results,” Felipe said. When Rob didn’t go inside, he stood on the door step with him, folding his arms. He wasn’t about to sit through the same lecture Rob had given him the day before. None of this had anything to do with the Brit anymore.

“Tell me when you find out,” Rob said, quietly.

“Is nothing to do with you,” Felipe said.

“It’s everything to do with me,” Rob hissed. “I bloody care about you, Felipe, and if I have to remind you every night to not go out and fuck a stranger, I will.”

“Who I am fucking is nothing to do with you,” Felipe hissed back. “Gave up all input into that when you chose your career over me.”

“Felipe, don’t-.”

“You have a meeting,” Felipe said, nodding inside. “Am going shopping.”

Valtteri waited in the living room door way, unintentionally eavesdropping again. He hurried back to the sofa when Rob turned to come inside, closing the door behind him.

“Well,” Rob said, putting on a smile he knew Valtteri would be able to see through. “It’s good to see the two of you getting on again.”

“What do you mean _again_?” Valtteri asked. “Have always gotten on fine with Felipe.”

“Yeah, but you two haven’t seemed as close as normal recently,” Rob said. “Maybe I’m imagining things. Anyway, how have things been this week, then? Everything still alright at work.”

“Is fine,” Valtteri said, feeling no need to elaborate on his answers. Rob was used to him being short now and didn’t dwell on it.

“And everything with Felipe is fine?”

“Yep.”

“And any problems?” Rob asked, going through the checklist. “Anything with Felipe, or work, or Toto?”

“Everything is fine,” Valtteri said again, not missing a beat. Rob didn’t need to know about Toto. He’d only ask questions and Valtteri didn’t really have any answers to them. If Rob found out the truth, and that Felipe knew, they would both be in trouble.

“Well, that’s good,” Rob said. “You know, you can talk to me Valtteri. Or anyone at Fresh Start. You don’t have to rely on Felipe all the time, if you don’t feel comfortable.”

“I do feel comfortable,” Valtteri said, quickly. “Felipe is fine. More than fine. Does not need you checking up on him every week. Is doing brilliantly and does not need you coming here and doubting him all the time. Is supportive and understanding and has been better than any of my carers have been. We do not need you sticking your nose in all the time.”

Rob blinked stupidly, staring at Valtteri. The Finn’s cheeks were flushed pink and he quickly looked away from Rob, waiting for him to continue with his check list.

“Supportive?” Rob asked, eventually, running Valtteri’s comment through his mind slowly. “How do you mean?”

“Er… with the job,” Valtteri said, a little too quickly. “And everything.”

“Val?”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Is there something you’re not telling me?” Rob asked, his face and voice filled with concern but Valtteri believed none of it. He shook his head.

“Is nothing.”

“Valtteri, if there’s something you’re not telling me, you’re going to have to,” Rob said.

“Is not important.”

“What’s not important?” Rob asked, trying to keep the volume of his voice down but failing.

Valtteri groaned and fell back into the sofa. Rob wasn’t going to let it go. He was worse than Felipe.

“Have broken up with Toto,” he admitted. “There. You can save the “I told you so”s because I already know. Do not need you to tell me.”

“You’ve broken up with Toto?” Rob repeated stupidly. “Oh, Val, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Do you mind me asking why?”

“Yes.”

“Valtteri.”

“He has found someone else,” Valtteri lied, not looking at Rob. “Is for the best. Does not matter. Is not important.”

“Alright then,” Rob said slowly. “As long as you’re ok…”

“I am fine.”

 

“You and Rob,” Valtteri began. He was sat beside Felipe on the sofa, some boring TV programme on to put their attention on, but neither of them were really watching it, sitting in silence.

“Yes?”

“You were together, weren’t you?” Valtteri said, turning to face Felipe and resting the side of his head against the back of the sofa. It may have been a question, but he knew the truth. He’d heard what had been said on the doorstep, and he knew Fernando’s comments had wound Felipe up far too much for them to have nothing to them.

“Rob and I are just friends,” Felipe said after a moment’s thought, placing the mug of coffee down on the floor at his feet.

“But you were more than that, before,” Valtteri said. “Please don’t lie to me, Felipe.”

His fingers brushed against the back of Felipe’s empty hand, trying to pull his friend’s attention away from the TV screen. Felipe didn’t seem to notice.

“Yes,” Felipe said, eventually. “But it was a long time ago. It was wrong. Like we would be wrong.”

“But you did it,” Valtteri said, watching Felipe’s eyes drop from the TV to where their hands were sitting together. “He hurt you, didn’t he?”

Felipe shook his head. “He chose his job over me,” he said, looking up at Valtteri, unsurprised to find the Finn’s eyes already on his own. “Does not matter anymore.”

“Is that why you wouldn’t let me kiss you?” Valtteri asked, letting his fingers slip between Felipe’s again.

“Wouldn’t let you kiss me because that would be wrong,” Felipe said. “And am not going to let you now, either.”

“Would not ask you to,” Valtteri said.

Felipe bit his bottom lip, not knowing how to reply. He chose not to, taking his eyes away from Valtteri’s and turning to the television screen, but he had no idea what was going on anymore.

“You lied to Rob today,” Valtteri said, quietly, drawing patterns on the back of Felipe’s hand with his thumb.

“Lied to him yesterday as well,” Felipe said, not looking away from the TV.

“And will lie to him when I get my results,” Valtteri said. “Will tell him they are yours, and will tell him that they’re clean.”

“Probably,” Felipe said.

Valtteri fell silent again, turning his attention back to the television, but his hand was still in Felipe’s. He knew the Brazilian knew it was there, but he didn’t pull away from him. That had to be a good thing, didn’t it?

 


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The bad news is this is extremely awkward and awful. The good news is it's pretty short. Sorry.

Felipe tried to stand to go take his empty mug into the kitchen, but his fingers were still locked in Valtteri and the Finn made no attempt to let go, tugging on Felipe’s arm until he sat back down. Felipe rolled his eyes, returning Valtteri’s tired smile.

“What has gotten into you, hey?” he asked.

“Stay with me,” Valtteri said.

“Was only going into the kitchen,” Felipe said. “Was hardly about to run off.”

“Know this,” Valtteri said. “But stay here for now. Please.”

Felipe sighed with mock impatience, but put his mug back on the floor before getting comfortable again.

Valtteri smiled, pleased with himself, and sat up, taking his hand away from Felipe’s but, before the Brazilian could stand again, the hand was placed on his shoulder making sure he sat in place until Valtteri could keep him seat with his own weight on Felipe’s lap.

“What are you doing?” Felipe asked, looking up at Valtteri.

“He hurt you, didn’t he?” Valtteri said. The look in his eye was something close to curious, and Felipe held his gaze for a moment, the heat rising in his own cheeks until he looked away again.

“Does not matter,” he said. “Was a long time ago and it does not matter anymore.”

“And you are scared you are going to hurt me,” Valtteri said, cocking his head a little and making Felipe smile.

“Cannot take advantage of you, Val,” Felipe said gently, taking Valtteri’s hand off of his shoulder and taking it to join his other in his lap. “You know this. Are vulnerable, whether you think it or not.”

“You wouldn’t be taking advantage of me though,” Valtteri said. “Felipe, you want me as much as I want you.”

“You do not know what you want,” Felipe said.

Valtteri didn’t answer, but instead leaned down and brushed his lips against Felipe’s, the faintest of touches for a moment before increasing the pressure and forcing his tongue into the Brazilian’s mouth.

Valtteri didn’t answer, but he did.

For a moment, Felipe didn’t react, his brain still trying to catch up with what was going on. By the time he had realised what was going on and was beginning to try to pull away, Valtteri was sitting up, a smug smile on his face.

“You still think I do not know what I want?” he asked.

Felipe tried to answer, but the words stuck in his throat, unable to get past his heart, which currently felt as if it was hammering bruises into his windpipe. Valtteri took it as a victory. Before Felipe could force his words past the lump, Valtteri had leaned in again, one hand behind Felipe’s head, the other flat against his chest. When Felipe didn’t let Valtteri’s tongue back into his mouth, the Finn settled with sucking on his bottom lip, fingers tightening in Felipe’s hair until the Brazilian pulled away again.

“We cannot do this,” he said, gently pushing Valtteri back so he could sit up again. He shook his head. “You do not know what you want, Valtteri. Are just confused.”

“I want you,” Valtteri said. “And I know you want me too.”

“Not everybody who is nice to you wants you like this, Valtteri,” Felipe said, gently, watching Valtteri’s cheeks go darker and darker. “I care about you, I want you to be happy, but I do not want this.”

“Before,” Valtteri said, tears beginning to swim in his eyes now as he realised again how wrong he had been. “Before, when I asked you what would happen if there was no Toto, and there was no scheme? You did not say nothing would happen. You said you couldn’t, because there was Toto, and there was the scheme. You wanted this. If you didn’t, you would have said.”

“I don’t,” Felipe said, trying to make it as plain as possible. He wanted to wipe the tears from Valtteri’s eyes, but that would probably do more harm than good right now, and he kept his hands wrapped loosely around Valtteri’s wrists. “And you don’t either.”

“I know what I want. Am not a child.”

“No, but you are hurting,” Felipe said. “And that is not because you have come from care and not because you are a child, but because Toto has hurt you. And that is not your fault, but it has happened, and maybe you think you want this now, and maybe you will think the same thing tomorrow, but one day you will regret this and I do not want to be something you regret.”

Valtteri shook his head. “You won’t be.”

“Will be,” Felipe promised him. “Maybe one day, yes? Maybe when things have settled down and everything is clearer in your head, we will maybe do this, if you still want to. But I think right now you just need a friend.”

He shifted and tried to push Valtteri off of him, but Valtteri didn’t move, staring at Felipe with tears still swimming in his eyes. After a few moments, he gulped and nodded, blinking away the tears and climbing off of Felipe.

“Sorry.”

“Is ok,” Felipe said, gently. “Am going to have to tell Rob though.”

“No,” Valtteri said, quickly. “No, Felipe, you can’t.”

“ _Have_ to,” Felipe said. “Will explain, make sure he knows that this is not going to happen again and it is just because you are feeling stressed and emotional and confused.”

“You can’t tell him he won’t listen he won’t understand,” Valtteri said, his words barely understandable they were spoken so fast. He shook his head again, tempted to crawl back onto Felipe’s lap again, just to stop him getting up to tell Rob there and then. He couldn’t do it. Rob was like the others, like every other social worker he’d been given to. He wouldn’t understand. “Please don’t tell him.”

“Do not have a choice,” Felipe said, gently. “I will make him listen and I will make him understand. Don’t worry. He knows what it was like before. He will be sympathetic.”

“He’ll take me away.”

“Nobody is taking you away, ok?” Felipe said, sternly. “I am not going to let that happen. When Rob’s boss found out we were together, made him chose between making me leave and ending the relationship. As long as this does not happen again then Rob will not do anything. I promise.”

“You’re sure?” Valtteri asked, uncertainly.

“Rob is a better person than you think he is,” Felipe said gently. “And I am not letting you go. Not without a fight. You need a friend, and nobody is going to stop me being that friend. I promise.”

 


	23. Chapter 23

Felipe knocked quickly on the office door, standing back to wait to be told to come in. The office opposite had its door open, and the people who worked inside smiled at him when he glanced inside. Felipe had never spoken to any of them, but they’d nodded to each other and given one another polite smiles before, and he knew they probably heard half the conversations he had with Rob through the thin walls and the quiet, empty corridor.

“Come in.”

Rob didn’t look up from the computer when Felipe came in, sat behind his desk like he usually was with a frown set on his face. Felipe couldn’t help but notice how old his friend looked now, the stress of the job getting to him more and more. Felipe knew there were money troubles. There were always money troubles. It wasn’t Rob’s job to worry about it, but he did.

“I need to talk to you,” Felipe said, shutting the door behind him.

“Little busy at the moment, sunshine,” Rob said, still tapping at the key board. “Just a sec, alright.”

Felipe waited, standing uncomfortably by the door and watching Rob work, until he finally hit send on whatever he was doing and looked up at Felipe. The frown was wiped from his face so quickly it almost made Felipe laugh.

“You alright?” Rob asked.

“Yeah,” Felipe said, forcing himself to smile.

“Come and sit down,” Rob laughed, apparently forgetting the argument they’d had the day before.

Felipe looked between the chairs and Rob, unable to move from where he was stood by the door.

“ _Are_ you alright?” Rob asked, his smile falling a little. “Is this about what I said the other day?”

“No,” Felipe said.

“Alright then,” Rob said, slowly. “Felipe, are you sure you’re alright.”

Felipe nodded, quickly, finally remembering how to move. He hurried into the seat opposite Rob and tried to smile.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong, or do you want me to guess?” Rob asked.

“It’s Valtteri,” Felipe said.

Rob sighed relieved, then realised he probably shouldn’t be that relieved about the answer and sat up. “What about Valtteri?”

Felipe hadn’t practiced this half as much as he had practiced asking Rob what they needed to do next, and his mind had suddenly gone blank.

“Felipe?”

“Valtteri kissed me,” he said. It was probably better to just spit it out than dance around the subject and hope Rob had some idea what he was talking about. He didn’t wait for Rob’s reaction, dropping his eyes to his feet and watching them gently kick the carpet.

Rob didn’t say anything, but Felipe could feel his friend’s eyes on him. He gulped and looked up again, shrugging a little.

“Valtteri kissed me.”

“Yeah, I heard that,” Rob said, snapping out of his shock. He huffed, disappointed, and shook his head. “Oh Felipe…”

“Was hardly my fault,” Felipe said. “He is just confused.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” Rob said, screwing his eyes shut and rubbing his forehead. “I guess you told him that it couldn’t happen.”

“Explained to him,” Felipe said, nodding. “I think he understands. Is hard for him, you know. Do not think many people have cared about him before, and then when I do he gets confused and thinks this is how he should be.”

Rob nodded, still not opening his eyes. “I get it,” he said.

“You don’t.”

Rob sighed and opened his eyes again, drumming on the desk to give him a couple of seconds to come up with an answer.

“You didn’t encourage it?” he asked.

“Of course I didn’t,” Felipe said, disgusted. “Am not stupid. Know this cannot happen.”

“I have to check,” Rob said. “Well, what do you want to do?”

“Have explained to him,” Felipe said again. “Is not going to happen again. I want to forget about it and so does Valtteri, but have told him that I need to tell you. Think he gets it better this time, though. I explained better.”

“This time?” Rob asked. “He’s done it before.”

Felipe gulped, realising he probably shouldn’t have said that.

“Has not kissed me before,” Felipe said. “Well, once, when he was drunk, but he was drunk then. And then another time he tried to, and that is when I explained to him before. But then things have been stressful for him, and he was confused. Is ok now, though, he understands now.”

“This is the third time it’s happened?” Rob asked.

“No,” Felipe said. “The first time he was drunk and about to pass out.”

“And you… you what?”

“I let him sleep,” Felipe cried. “What do you think I did?”

“I just have to _check_ , Felipe,” Rob said, his own voice rising.

It had sounded more like an accusation to Felipe, but he let it pass. It was Rob’s job to be concerned with all this, after all. And, with what Toto and his friends had done, it was a little comfort to know that Rob and the others knew that kind of thing could happen.

Rob shook his head. “Maybe it’s best we find someone else.”

“No,” Felipe said, quickly. “Is hardly what we were doing, Rob. Is nothing, and it is not going to happen again.”

“It already has.”

“He wants to stay with me,” Felipe said.

“I bet he does,” Rob muttered. “You know why I can’t let that happen.”

“I was let to stay with you after everything we did,” Felipe pointed out.

“And that was a brilliant idea, wasn’t it?” Rob said.

“What? Do you not trust me?”

“I never said that.”

“It is what you are thinking, isn’t it?” Felipe said. “Or is it just you being jealous again? Cannot stand that I am around someone other than you who might find me attractive.”

“Felipe…”

“Get over yourself, Rob,” Felipe snapped. “Valtteri needs me, and if you are going to put yourself over his needs then I do not think you are right for this job.”

“Another person will be able to handle Valtteri just as well as you have,” Rob said. “Maybe a fresh start somewhere else would be good for him.”

“He does not need a fresh start. He needs me.”

“Valtteri is nothing somebody else cannot handle,” Rob snapped, trying and failing to keep the volume of his own voice down.

“This is exactly why he does need me,” Felipe said. “Valtteri has problems you do not even know about. He will not just open up to someone else and you will be making him deal with all this problems by himself if you make him leave.”

“What kind of problems?” Rob laughed.

“He was raped.”

Felipe clamped his hands over his mouth but it was already too late. A sudden silence fell over the two of them and Felipe was pretty sure Rob was able to hear the sound of his heart hammering against his chest. Rob stared at him, the anger and argument falling from his face. Slowly, Felipe pulled his hands away from his face, shaking.

“I wasn’t supposed to say that,” he said quietly.

“Valtteri was raped?”

“He didn’t want me to tell anyone,” Felipe said, nodding. “He can’t know that you know, Rob, it’ll kill him.”

“When?” Rob asked. “Who?”

“He didn’t want me to tell anyone.”

“Felipe, tell me who it was.”

“Toto and his friends had been drugging his drinks,” Felipe said, quietly, his eyes back on the floor where his feet were no longer kicking the carpet. “He doesn’t remember what happened, but we both thought they might have…”

“There was no party, was there?” Rob asked, “You were asking for Valtteri, weren’t you?”

Felipe nodded again, not trusting himself to speak.

“Have you phoned the police?” Rob asked.

“He doesn’t want the police,” Felipe said. “Is an adult. Have to do as he asks, no? He just wants to forget about it, pretend it did not happen.”

“They can’t just get away with this,” Rob said. “They have to be punished, Felipe. What if they do it to somebody else?”

“Somebody else isn’t my concern. Valtteri is,” Felipe said. “He doesn’t want anybody else to know. We have to respect that.”

“Let me talk to him.”

“He can’t know you know,” Felipe said.

“How do you think he’s going to feel if somebody else gets hurt because of this?” Rob asked.

“If someone else gets hurt because of this, he is not going to know,” Felipe said. “It is my job to protect him, no? And I am doing that. You cannot take him away from me, Rob. Not now.”

 


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another (and hopefully the last) short chapter.

Felipe had tried to tell him that he didn’t need to go back to work on Monday, but Valtteri had insisted. He wanted to get back to normal and that meant carrying on as if nothing had happened, he thought. The routine would be good for him, he figured. There would be little time for thinking about anything that may or may not have happened when he was changing bedsheets and he had Emilia talking at him. When he’d explained this to Felipe, he’d reluctantly agreed that Valtteri was probably right.

“How did it go then?” Emilia asked, unlocking the first of the empty rooms they had to sort, ready for the next guests.

“What?”

Emilia rolled her eyes, but she was used to Valtteri by now and grinned as she continued.

“Your Friday night with your boyfriend,” she explained, letting Valtteri past with the trolley. “Or was that just so you did not have to come to the pub with us?”

“No,” Valtteri said, quickly. Of all the things Emilia could want to talk about… “No, it was alright.”

“Alright?” Emilia asked. “This is the love of your life we are talking about, Val, and his birthday night was just _alright_?”

“It was alright,” Valtteri said again, bundling up the dirty towels and dumping them in the wash basket. He knew Emilia well enough by now, and was sure she would drop the conversation for something more exciting soon enough. He’d never made himself out to be something interesting and he didn’t think Emilia would be expecting something interesting.

“Well, hope he gives you more than an alright birthday when it comes to your turn,” Emilia said.

“Will have a better birthday than he did,” Valtteri said, confidently. There was no way he could have a worse birthday than that, he figured.

“When is your birthday, anyway?” Emilia asked. “You haven’t told me. It better not be soon. We’ll have to do a party or something.”

“Will have to wait a long time,” Valtteri said, happily. Hopefully she would forget about that comment by the time the summer came around. Or he’d have come up with another excuse as to why he couldn’t have a party.

“Nope,” Emilia said, grinning. “I’m going to find out when it is and we’re all going to have a party, and there’ll be no getting out of it.”

Valtteri smiled back at her, shaking his head at her enthusiasm.

 

Valtteri was in a relatively good mood on his way back from the hotel, walking with Emilia and some of the others until they passed the street they lived in and he had to walk the last couple of streets alone. Moving on wouldn’t be too hard with work and everything else. As long as he didn’t have to think about it, moving on wouldn’t be hard at all.

The car at the other end of the street wiped the good mood away.

.Valtteri was at his front door before Toto even got out of the car, hurrying inside before his ex could catch up with him.

“Val, please.”

Valtteri slammed the door shut, leaning against it with his eyes shut. As long as he didn’t have to think about it, moving on wouldn’t be hard at all. But how could he not think about it when Toto was banging a fist against the door above his head.

“What is this slamming about?” Felipe asked, coming into the hallway from the kitchen. His face fell as soon as he spotted Valtteri. Before he could ask if he was alright, Toto hammered on the door again. “Go into the kitchen. Make us some coffee, yes?”

“He saw me come in,” Valtteri said. “He knows I am here.”

“That does not mean you have to speak to him,” Felipe said. “Will make him go away. Go and make coffee.”

Valtteri nodded quickly, coming away from the door. Standing here panicking wasn’t going to make anything better. Felipe gave him a weak smile as he passed into the kitchen, waiting until he was well out of the way before heading to the door.

“I know he’s in,” Toto said, looking down at Felipe.

“He does not want to speak to you,” Felipe said, crossing his arms. He glanced up the street, half expecting the two other men to be marching up the street, following him, but there was nobody. Toto had come alone.

“I have to explain,” Toto said. “He runs off on my birthday and he doesn’t give me a chance to explain what has happened.”

“He knows what has happened,” Felipe said.

“No, he doesn’t,” Toto said. “He heard something he does not understand and he got confused. You have to let me explain to him.”

“Explain to me.”

“It has nothing to do with you,” Toto said.

“I think it does,” Felipe said. “Explain it to me and then I will explain to Valtteri.”

“It has nothing to do with you.”

“That is as good as you are going to get,” Felipe said. “You can go if you want to.”

Toto took a couple of seconds to consider it, then sighed. He stepped back and Felipe thought he might actually leave, then he shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Lewis, one of my friends, put something into Valtteri’s drink,” he said. “It was just a joke, nothing bad. It would have made the drink taste bitter, and Lewis… Lewis doesn’t exactly have the best sense of humour in the world, and he thought this would be very funny.”

Felipe said nothing, leaning against the door frame. Toto couldn’t tell if it was working or not, but he guessed not.

“Valtteri just over reacted. He thought it was something bad and I went to make sure and he didn’t wait for me to find out when he ran off.”

He shrugged as if that was it.

“And what about the rest of it?” Felipe asked.

“Rest of it?” Toto asked.

“Valtteri said one of your friends kissed him,” Felipe said. “Or was that just a joke too?”

“He was drunk,” Toto said. “They both were. They did not know what they were doing.”

“Alright,” Felipe said.

“So you’re going to let me see him?”

“No,” Felipe said. “He does not want to see you right now. Will tell him what you’ve said and he can decide for himself if he believes any of this.”

“You can’t stop me seeing him.”

“You are not coming into my house,” Felipe said. “So you can wait here on the doorstep all night, or you can go home. Your choice.”

Toto sighed again. “Tell him I love him.”

He smiled and nodded to Felipe before hurrying down the garden path. Felipe watched him into the car again, making sure he was actually gone before heading inside.

Valtteri was in the kitchen, pouring boiling water into mugs with shaking hands.

“Let me do that,” Felipe said, rushing over and taking the kettle from Valtteri, but he was already finished. “He’s gone,” Felipe said, gently.

“What did he say?” Valtteri asked, falling onto one of the stools with a mug of coffee.

“A load of bullshit,” Felipe said. “Nothing important.”

He offered Valtteri a smile, hoping that would be enough to settle him. The way Valtteri looked up at him blankly said that that hadn’t worked in the slightest.

“You don’t believe him?” Valtteri asked.

“Of course I don’t believe him,” Felipe said. “Val, there is nobody in their right mind that would believe what he said over you. Is clear he is lying.”

“To you maybe,” Valtteri mumbled. “But what about to anyone else? What if he tells someone?”

“Tells someone what?” Felipe asked. “My boyfriend has left me because he caught my friend putting something in his drink and I did not defend him? Then he will be laughed at. He isn’t going to tell anyone. You have nothing to worry about anymore.”

He was going to have to tell Valtteri that Rob knew. He _knew_ he was going to have to tell him, before Rob came round himself and announced that he knew what had happened. Felipe was pretty sure he had managed to convince the Brit not to go to the police, but that didn’t mean Rob wasn’t going to come to try to convince Valtteri that going to the police was the best thing to do. And if anyone was going to tell Valtteri that Rob knew, it was going to have to be Felipe.

“He’s not going to leave us alone, is he?” Valtteri asked, before Felipe could say anything.

Valtteri wasn’t looking up at him, staring at the coffee that was still too hot to drink. Felipe pushed himself up onto the counter top.

“He will,” he promised. “Eventually, he will get bored of all this, when he realises you are definitely not coming back or going to the police. He will move on, and so will we.”

 

“Will you come with me?”

 

There were more people in the clinic when Valtteri went to collect his results than either of them had expected, but they stood in line with the others and waited. Felipe was tapping his foot and Valtteri could see how annoyed the people behind them in the line were getting, but his attempts to get his friend to stop it were ignored.

“Should not be long now,” Valtteri said, trying to stop himself from glaring at Felipe as the couple behind him was.

“If it is not what you expect it to be…” Felipe began, but Valtteri shook his head.

“I am fine,” he insisted, as he had been insisting all week.

“If it is not what you expect it to be, then we will get through it,” Felipe finished.

Valtteri just rolled his eyes and nodded. It was easier than arguing with him. At least now he’d stopped tapping his foot.

“I mean it, Val.”

“I know,” Valtteri said, trying not to snap. Why Felipe had to be so pessimistic, he didn’t know. Was it really that hard to let him believe that nothing had happened?

“Just wanted to make sure,” Felipe mumbled, shuffling forward with Valtteri as the person at the front of the queue left.

Valtteri nodded again, hoping that would be the end of the conversation. He didn’t mind Felipe trying to be helpful and supportive and everything, but there was a time and a place, and this wasn’t either of them.

Felipe went back to tapping his foot as the queue went down, until they were finally stood at the desk.

“Results for Bottas,” Valtteri mumbled.

“Of course,” the receptionist said with a painted on smile, going to file of envelopes again.

“Felipe,” Valtteri muttered. “Felipe, can you stop tapping your foot.”

“What?”

“Your _foot_ ,” Valtteri snapped.

“Here you are,” the receptionist said, handing Valtteri a brown envelope.

Valtteri nodded to her before pulling Felipe out of the queue and into one of the rows of seats. Felipe watched him tear open the envelope, and Valtteri was sure there should be a drum roll about now.

“Clean,” he said, handing Felipe the letter. “I told you.”

There was a pause as Felipe read the results, then he wrapped his arms around Valtteri again, almost winding him.

“I told you,” Valtteri said again, a little confused.

“I know,” Felipe said, pulling away. “Sorry. Just… just glad this is all over for you.”

He grinned and Valtteri returned the smile.

All over.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just for the heads up, things are about to get a whole lot worse, but it's always darkest in the moments before dawn, or something like that.


	25. Chapter 25

There had been no sign of Toto for almost a week now, and Valtteri was finally letting himself believe that this really was all over. He’d expected Toto to put up more of a fight, to come round again and again and to have Nico and Lewis trailing him most days. Clearly he’d over estimated his importance, but he really couldn’t care less about that anymore. He’d never meant anything to Toto, and now that was a good thing.

So he went out with Emilia on the hotel’s Friday ritual and let himself get a little a tipsy with the others, staggering into the house from the taxi with his work colleges calling after him. He managed to get up the stairs and decided on the bathroom before bed, before falling into the second bedroom and deciding here was as good a place to sleep as any.

 

Working Friday nights wasn’t Felipe’s favourite part of the job, but it paid well enough and he wasn’t in much of a position to complain. The Friday nights were the nights that gave the best tips, and there was nothing bad about that. But, when he eventually got home, the only thing he really wanted was to go to bed.

Felipe rolled his eyes when he found Valtteri sprawled on his bed and flicked the light on. Valtteri didn’t stir, and Felipe stood with his hand on his hip and a grin on his face. He looked so peaceful sleeping, much more peaceful than Felipe had ever seen him awake. Half of him didn’t want to wake him up, just stand and watch him sleep without worry for just a little longer, but tiredness took that away. He wanted to sleep.

“Valtteri?” he said, gently.

Felipe sighed and shook his head. At least Valtteri seemed to have enjoyed himself, getting back to what could be considered normal already. Felipe crossed the room and gently shook his friend’s shoulder. Valtteri stirred, but didn’t open his eyes, curling a little further in on himself.

“Come on, Val, just want to go to sleep,” Felipe mumbled, shaking Valtteri’s shoulder again. When the Finn still didn’t stir, Felipe slipped a hand under him, figuring he might wake up if he was lifted onto his feet.

Valtteri’s head lolled as he was sat up and he blinked, sleepily.

As soon as he was awake enough, he jumped away from Felipe, almost falling off the bed, and pulled the bedsheets around him.

“What are you doing?”

“Trying to get you to wake up,” Felipe said, trying to figure out why Valtteri was staring at him with such wide eyes. The answer hit him so hard it almost hurt. “Shit. I am so sorry.”

“No it’s…” Valtteri sighed, letting go of the bed sheets and rubbing his eyes. “It’s fine. I’m sorry.”

“Val, I didn’t think…”

“It’s _fine_ ,” Valtteri snapped sliding off of the bed.

“I’m sorry.”

“Felipe, stop apologising,” Valtteri said. “I’m going to bed.”

“Alright,” Felipe said, watching him leave. He was not going to let that happen again.

 

_We need to talk. The alleyway on Hurst Street ASAP. Nando_

The message came whilst Valtteri was at work and Felipe was home alone.

Of course, the first thing he tried was calling the number. There was no way Fernando could have his phone number, but the Spaniard had a habit of doing things Felipe thought he couldn’t and it wouldn’t have surprised him if he had gotten it from someone. Nobody answered. He tried again and again but there was still no answer.

This was ridicules, Felipe thought as he put down the phone after the fourth attempt. He could not go and meet Fernando in some alleyway. He was not doing that again.

_We need to talk._

_Heard you were the driving._

If he had come to blackmail him…

There was no way Fernando could know it had been him driving the car the night he crashed. The only people who had been there to see it had been him and Rob. He hadn’t told anybody, and he was certain Rob hadn’t. How many times had Rob told him in the months since the crash that nothing was going to happen? That they’d gotten away with it and it was all in the past?

But Fernando had that habit of doing things he should have been able to do, and if there was anybody Felipe thought would have found out about the crash it was him.

Would the Spaniard actually go to the police? Yes. If he thought it would teach Felipe to do as he said again, then Fernando would do it. And then it would be prison for him again, and Rob would be punished again for something he’d never done in the first place. And god knew what would happen to Valtteri. Felipe couldn’t leave Valtteri on his own, not now. And if going to see Fernando in some dark back ally was going to stop that from happening, then he’d do it.

 

There was nobody there when Felipe arrived. Or that’s how it looked, anyway. The alleyway snaked around past mostly empty and derelict houses, either side of a narrow path littered with rubbish from skiving teenagers. Felipe locked the bike up on a streetlight up the street, knowing this wasn’t the kind of place he could just leave it there and expect it to be sitting where he put it when he came back, before going to find the Spaniard.

“Fernando?”

Felipe stood on his toes and craned his neck, as if that might help him see further around the bend in the alleyway, but it was useless. If he was going to find out what Fernando wanted, he was going to have to find him first.

“Fernando?” he called again, walking carefully between the banks of rubbish. At one point, both exits were obscured by the bend in the path, but there was still no sign of Fernando. Or anybody else for that matter. Felipe glanced back the way he had come, hating the way the walls of the back gardens toward above him, keeping the empty houses out of sight from anybody who might be lurking here. Or anybody who might be lurking here out of sight from anybody in the houses.

Felipe pulled his phone from his pocket and rang the number from the text message again. He didn’t know if he was hoping for an answer or just to see if the phone, and it’s owner, were here, but he got neither.

“Fernando, I do not have time for this,” Felipe called, going a little further into the alleyway. He wasn’t going to wait around for him. If he wasn’t here, he was going.

“Let’s hope this doesn’t take too long then.”

Felipe spun around, surprised to find Nico only a few steps behind him. The German smirked at his surprise.

“Where is Fernando?” Felipe asked. He had not been tricked. That had not happened. It could not have happened.

“Fernando couldn’t make it today,” Nico said. “So we came instead.”

“We?” Felipe asked, as if he needed to. When he spun, he found Lewis, a little further back than Nico, but still a little closer than Felipe would like. “If you want money, I do not have any.”

“You came to see your drug dealer without any money?” Nico asked.

Felipe glared at him. How did they know so much about him anyway? None of this made any sense.

“We didn’t come for money,” Nico said. “But I guess you knew that.”

“Leave me alone,” Felipe said, standing as tall as he could. He wasn’t backing off. Nico and Lewis could act as scary as they wanted to. He was standing by Valtteri no matter what.

Lewis grabbed hold of Felipe’s wrists, pulling his hands behind his back and making him stumble backwards with the force. Before Felipe could quite recover himself, Nico’s fist made contact with his stomach and he doubled over, still trying to pull his hands free from Lewis.

“Did not fancy your chances fighting fair?” Felipe asked once Nico had kindly let him catch his breath.

“We’ve no interest in beating you, Massa,” Nico said, tugging Felipe’s head up with a fist in his hair. “We’ve no real interest in you at all.”

 

“Did you even drink?” Emilia asked, taking hold of one side of the sheet and taking it around to the other side of the bed.

“Yeah.”

“You didn’t seem like it,” Emilia said.

“Am surprised you can remember any of it,” Valtteri said, grinning.

Emilia frowned and tugged the sheet out of Valtteri’s grip. Valtteri just grinned at her pout, taking the sheet back and spreading it over the mattress.

“I had a little,” Valtteri assured her. It had been a good night out. He wouldn’t do it _every_ Friday night. He didn’t think spending every Friday night looking after a gaggle of drunken cleaners and his Saturday recovering from it would keep it’s appeal for very long. But it wasn’t something to be avoided that much.

“I want to see you drunk,” Emilia said, tucking in the sheet.

“You don’t,” Valtteri said, the grin dropping from his face a little.

“Why not?” Emilia asked, apparently not noticing the change in atmosphere.

“You just don’t.”

“I bet you’re an emotional drunk,” Emilia said, tossing Valtteri the pillows to change. “And that’s why you don’t get drunk.”

“Do not get drunk because if I did, who would look after you lot?” Valtteri said, ignoring the fact that he had gotten more drunk than he had wanted to.

“We weren’t that drunk.”

“You thought the taxi man was an alien trying to abduct you,” Valtteri remembered.

Emilia frowned, confused. She didn’t remember that. Valtteri’s grin returned.

“See?” he said, tossing the pillows back. “Is better I am not drunk, no matter how funny you think it would be.”

“I guess,” Emilia said, but the smile on her face said she wasn’t going to give up so easily.

 

Felipe struggled to sit up, heaving a breath that made his chest ache. He glared up at Nico, barely able to see out of one eye and blood dripping into the other. He wasn’t in any position to put up a fight, but managed to shoot a gob of spit at the German’s shoes.

He was pushing himself onto his knees, not giving up, when a glint of metal in Lewis’ hand caught his eye and he froze, swallowing hard and making his bruised throat throb.

Felipe tried to focus on whatever it was Lewis was holding, but he could barely see and couldn’t make out what it was. Nico crouched down, pulling Felipe’s hands forward so harshly he almost dragged his arms from his shoulders, and the sound of something ripping caught Felipe’s attention.

Lewis wrapped the tape around his wrists, keeping them tight together, and cut it off with the scissors before turning to his ankles.

“So what now?” Felipe asked, wincing at the feeling of the breath ripping through his throat. “You have me out of the way so you can get to Valtteri. Is probably an easier way to do that than this.”

“Probably is,” Nico said, standing. “But this way the worm gets the guilt of you suffering because of him.”

“You leave him alone,” Felipe said. “You want to do anything, then you do it to me.”

“You’re alright man,” Lewis said. “But thanks for the offer.”

“Smile,” Nico called, holding his phone to take a picture. “Oh, that’s a nice one. Do you know who I think would like that, Lewis?”

“Valtteri? I was thinking the same thing.”

“Leave him alone,” Felipe said, practically growling in a hope that would hurt his throat less.

“I think he would like to see what he’s gotten his little _friend_ into,” Nico said.

“Coward,” Felipe spat.

“I’d rather be a coward than you,” Lewis said.

“We’re going to go now, Felipe,” Nico said with a sickly sweet smile. “But don’t worry. We won’t even gag you and you can scream all you like. If I were you, I’d hope someone finds me before I pass out.”


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has some yuckyness and general not nice stuff, and the next chapter has more. And I apologise in advance for my inability to write yuckyness.

“I think you would be a hedgehog,” Emilia said, making Valtteri choke on his coke.

“Why a hedgehog?” he asked. How Emilia had come onto what animal he would be over their lunch break, he didn’t know? Thinking back, it was always difficult to follow Emilia’s train of thought.

“I don’t know,” Emilia said, cocking her head thoughtfully and taking another bite from her sandwich. She chewed slowly, thinking about her answer.

Valtteri watched her, grinning. He was about to comment on how, if Emilia was an animal, it would probably be an elephant, the way she was chewing her sandwich, when his phone buzzed.

“You’re not supposed to have that on, Val,” Emilia sang as he took it out of his pocket.

“Is lunch break,” Valtteri said, flicking his thumb up the screen and tapping on the glowing message button.

“Who is it?” Emilia asked. “Is your boyfriend sexting you?”

Valtteri didn’t reply, staring at the picture that had appeared in his inbox.

“Valtteri?”

This wasn’t happening. They’d forgotten about him. They’d moved on and so had he.

“Val-tter-i?”

Valtteri swallowed hard and looked back up at Emilia, shoving his phone into his pocket again with shaking hands.

Emilia grinned at him, her forehead folded in confusion.

“What’s the matter?”

“I need to go,” Valtteri said, standing, His hands were still shaking and he didn’t think they were going to stop anytime soon.

“We still have five more rooms,” Emilia said.

“I need to go,” Valtteri said again. Felipe had left work when Valtteri had needed him, and Valtteri had been perfectly fine then. Felipe _needed_ him now, really, and Valtteri was going to do what was right.

 

_If you don’t want things to get any worse, you’ll come to Toto’s. Now._

_Phone Rob_ , a voice in his head said as he rushed to Toto’s house. _Phone Rob, he’ll know what to do._

Phoning Rob would mean admitting what had happened, though, and Valtteri couldn’t do that. It would only get all of them into even more trouble and he didn’t _want_ that. He just wanted to move on. He just wanted to pretend none of that had ever happened.

_If you care about Felipe, you’d phone Rob._

If he phoned Rob, they’d find out. If he phoned the police, they’d find out. And if they found out, Felipe was as good as dead. He knew how these kind of things worked. He couldn’t phone Rob or the police or anyone. If he wanted Felipe to stay safe, he just needed to do as they said.

It took longer than he wanted to get to Toto’s, but Valtteri’s hands were still shaking by the time he reached the familiar street. He stood at the end of it, watching the house and trying to ready himself, but it was no use.

He should have just spoken to Toto. None of this would have happened if he’d agreed to speak to Toto.

Valtteri knocked on the front door quickly before he could leave, stepping back to wait for someone to answer it. He didn’t have to wait long, Nico answering the door so soon he might have been waiting behind it.

“Told you it would work,” Nico called back into the house before smiling at Valtteri. “Lewis bet you wouldn’t come. He owes me ten pound.”

“Where is Felipe?”

“He’s safe,” Toto said. He stood a little way behind Nico, stood by the living room door way and watching Valtteri over Nico’s shoulder. “For now. Why don’t you come in?”

Nico stepped aside to let him in, holding onto the door and waiting to shut it. Valtteri didn’t move for a couple of seconds. This was his last chance. He could still run now, find Felipe another way, or get help. But he didn’t. He knew he wouldn’t.

Nico slammed the door shut when Valtteri was inside, making him shudder. Toto had already disappeared into the living room and Valtteri made to follow him. There was still a little hope this wasn’t going to be as bad as he thought it was. Toto would explain to him his point of view. They’d talk and he’d tell him where Felipe was. Nico and Lewis wouldn’t need to be here for that, and they were making the already tiny possibility even tinier, but there was still a chance. He had to hope.

Lewis handed Nico a note when Valtteri walked in closely followed by the German, but he looked too pleased for someone who had just lost a bet. Nico fell onto the sofa beside his friend, Toto going over to the end of the room to lean on the window sill. Valtteri stood, looking between the three of them and waiting for an explanation.

“Where is Felipe?” he asked again when nobody spoke for a while.

“ _Where is Felipe?_ ” Lewis mimicked with a smirk. “All he cares about.”

“We were expecting you might have an apology of some kind,” Toto said. “After running off.”

“Looks like he didn’t care about you at all, Toto,” Nico said.

“You… I loved you Toto,” Valtteri said, trying to focus on Toto and ignoring the snorts of laughter the two men on the sofa gave. “But have been _drugging_ me. Could not stay here and let you do that. I loved you, but you did not love me. Know that now.”

“And Felipe does love you?” Lewis asked as if he were speaking to a child.

“He cares about me more than any of you do,” Valtteri spat. “Where is he?”

“He’s safe, like Toto said,” Nico said. “But he’s only going to stay that way if you do exactly as we tell you to.”

Valtteri looked between the three men, suddenly feeling a lot smaller than he had ever felt before. They all watched him, waiting for an answer he didn’t want to give but he didn’t have a choice. The longer he stood there, the smaller he got, and the more his hands shook and the more he was pretty sure he was going to faint.

“You’ll let him go?” Valtteri asked.

“When we’re satisfied,” Nico replied.

“Alright then,”

It couldn’t be so bad, could it? If it meant Felipe was safe, then it couldn’t be so bad…

Nico nodded, a little surprised at how easy that had been.

“Strip.”

“What?” Valtteri looked between Nico and Toto, expecting Toto to stop it. He didn’t know why. Toto hadn’t stopped anything so far. Toto just looked back at him, emotionlessly.

“Strip,” Nico said again. “Come on, Val. It isn’t like we haven’t seen it before.”

Valtteri’s stomach lurched. This could be bad. Who was he trying to kid by thinking otherwise?

He didn’t bother making a show of it. The only thing that stopped Valtteri ripping off the shirt to cut down the leering time was the fact that he was still in his work shirt, and didn’t really want to have to explain why he needed a new one. Valtteri didn’t look up, his cheeks already bright red without having to see the three men watching him kick off his shoes and trousers.

“Come here,” Nico said once Valtteri was stood in his boxers.

“Just let me go,” Valtteri said. “Please. Toto?”

“You can go any time you like,” Toto said. “But if you want your _friend_ to stay as intact as he is now, that might not be such a good idea.”

“Toto, please.”

“Come here,” Nico said again, holding out his hand.

“We haven’t done anything,” Valtteri said. “Why are you doing this? It’s not fair.”

“Life’s not fair,” Lewis said unhelpfully.

“Do you know what’s not fair?” Toto asked. “Having to look after a stupid bratty child all your life. I never got to enjoy myself, because I was always burdened with you. It’s not fair to have a waste of space attach itself to you and smother you until you can’t do anything without having it burst into tears. It isn’t fair when that same piece of shit tries to stop you seeing any of your friends because they’re oversensitive, and then goes off and kisses another man. You owe me, Valtteri. Now do as Nico says or get out.”

Tears swam in Valtteri’s eyes, blurring his vision as he stared at Toto.

_But I loved you._

“I think you should leave,” Nico said when Valtteri didn’t move. “Good to see he cares about this Felipe as much as he did you, Toto.”

“No,” Valtteri said, quickly. This was his fault and he wasn’t going to let Felipe get even more hurt because of him.

“Then come here.”

Valtteri took hold of Nico’s hand and let the German pull him onto his lap. Nico wasted no time, holding the smaller man’s head and forcing his tongue into Valtteri’s mouth. Valtteri was tempted to bite down, but that wasn’t going to help Felipe at all, and he sat as still as possible, trying not to shiver as one of Nico’s hands trailed down his back.

“Pass him here,” Lewis said, pulling on Valtteri’s arm, but Nico just snapped his hand away, pulling away from the kiss.

His mouth moved to Valtteri’s ear and there was another shudder as he felt the German’s breath against the sensitive skin there.

“Toto says you’re an even better fuck when you’re awake. Shall we test that?”


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And then it gets worse, with the potential of getting better. Sorry about this.

Felipe could barely keep his eyes open anymore and his voice was too hoarse from shouting for anyone to hear. It was no use. There was nobody coming and it would be too late now. They had Valtteri. Rob really was going to kill him this time, if he wasn’t already dead by the time somebody stumbled across him.

They had Valtteri. He’d _let_ them have Valtteri. He shouldn’t have fallen for something so stupid. None of this would have happened in the first place if he hadn’t gotten into the crash. He would never have come here and none of this would have happened and _god_ they had Valtteri and there was nothing he could do.

“Felipe?”

Felipe opened his eyes as best he could, leaning as far forward as he could without causing too much pain, but he couldn’t see the Spaniard.

“Fer-.”

“Felipe are you here?”

“Fernando.”

Felipe sighed at himself, frustrated. A rustle of the rubbish he was sat in would have been loud enough to cover that, and Fernando wasn’t likely to be as stupid as he had been and venture into the alleyway alone, but he couldn’t get his voice any louder.

“Felipe?”

“Fernando.”

Felipe tried coughing, as if that might be any louder, but it only made his throat feel worse. He didn’t hear the footsteps coming towards him over the sound of the blood rushing through his head and his eyes had slipped closed by the time Fernando reached him.

“Shit, Felipe.”

“Fernando?”

Fingers on Felipe’s throat confirmed the Spaniard was there.

“Have Val,” Felipe wheezed as Fernando took his hand away.

“Felipe, what happened?” Fernando asked.

“Have to get Val,” Felipe said again, as if Fernando would have any idea what he was talking about. The Spaniard didn’t even know Valtteri’s name.

When Fernando didn’t answer, Felipe tried to open his eyes, to see where he had gone. He couldn’t have left him here.

Fernando was crouched down in front of him, phone stuck to his ear.

“Need an ambulance,” he said. “My friend has been beaten.”

“Am fine,” Felipe said instinctively, but he knew it wasn’t true. They’d left him here to die. He was going to die.

“Only just,” Fernando was saying into the phone, glancing up at Felipe to see the Brazilian close his eyes. “No, stay awake, Felipe. Stay here. Felipe. Felipe?”

 

When Nico eventually let him go, he fell forward, smacking his head on the coffee table. Valtteri tried to focus on the pain in his head, not on the way Lewis was laughing and not on the warm, sticky substance crawling down his thigh.

“My turn,” Lewis said.

“Have me do all the hard work,” Nico mumbled. “As always.”

“Give him a breather,” Toto said, making Valtteri look up from where he was now lying on the floor.

Toto was still stood against the window sill as if nothing had happened. He didn’t look down at Valtteri, smiling at the look of disbelief Lewis have him.

“Come on, man. That ain’t fair.”

“Life’s not fair,” Nico quoted with a snigger. “I’ll go and make you a drink, to make up for it?”

“Fuck off, Nico,” Lewis said.

“Toto?” Valtteri said again. Toto didn’t even look at him. “Toto please.” He hadn’t had much chance to come up with a proper response but he couldn’t do that again. He couldn’t leave Felipe wherever they had him but he couldn’t do that again.

“See, it can talk,” Lewis said, aiming a gentle kick at Valtteri.

“You don’t have to do this,” Valtteri said, watching Toto. “Toto, please. Please, Toto. I loved you. I can love you again, Toto, please. Just don’t let them do this. Toto. Toto please.”

“Shut your face, faggot,” Lewis snarled.

“Go on,” Toto said. He hadn’t looked at Valtteri once.

A fresh wave of tears flooded down Valtteri’s face as Lewis dragged him up with a fist in his hair. Words fell out of his mouth and he was begging. He _knew_ he was begging, but he didn’t care. And Toto still didn’t look at him.

Lewis pushed his jeans and shorts down his thighs, sitting on the edge of the sofa with his hand still in Valtteri’s hair.

“Don’t get any clever ideas,” Lewis said. “Think about little Lipe.”

“Toto please. Please.”

Valtteri screwed his eyes shut like he had done last time, letting Lewis guide his mouth over his cock.

_Just let it happen. The sooner it happens, the sooner it’s over and the sooner you can go._

He wanted the drink. How many times had they done this before and he didn’t remember any of it? He didn’t _want_ to remember any of it.

Lewis held his head in place, fucking his mouth and at least he didn’t have to do anything. At least he didn’t have to think about it. He could close his eyes and let Lewis do what he wanted and tried to think of something else.

Think of Felipe. When this was all over, he’d go home with Felipe, or to a hospital if he was as bad as he had looked in the photo. They’d get Felipe sorted and he’d probably make Valtteri go for tests again and he wouldn’t mind if it meant moving on again. This couldn’t last forever. It would be over at some point, and he just had to hold on until then.

 

Rob practically collapsed into the chair behind his desk, having only just gotten back from another visit. Some of the kids – young adults – needed a lot more work than others, and when carers got into a panic and people ran off, it was him who had to show them how to clean up the mess.

He shouldn’t have taken this job, Rob thought as he switched the computer monitor back on. He’d been helping people well enough as a carer. He didn’t need the added stress all for a little more money.

Rob’s phone started ringing just as the computer started up. Part of him wanted to ignore it, because he’d already dealt with enough disasters for one day, but he found himself automatically taking out the mobile.

“Hello?”

“Is this Rob? Smedley?”

Or not Felipe. Rob recognised the panicking voice, but he couldn’t put a name to it.

“Who is this?”

“Is Fernando,” the man said.

“Where’s Felipe?”

“Have taken him to hospital,” Fernando said. “Has been beaten up and I didn’t know who else to phone.”

“Hospital?”

“Is what I said, isn’t it?” Fernando snapped. “Was not in a good state – barely awake. And he kept saying over and over again about Val.”

“Alright,” Rob said, standing. Any other disasters could wait for today. “I’m on my way.”

 

Valtteri wasn’t answering his phone, which Rob didn’t find surprising in the slightest. He couldn’t decide which awful scenario in his head sounded the worst, and there was no way of telling what had happened until he got into the hospital, having to give up his search for Valtteri at the door.

Rob had never seen Fernando as anything but smug or pissed off. He barely recognised the panicking man who greeted him at the hospital entrance, pulling him into the waiting room the doctors had left him in whilst they worked on Felipe.

“Where is he?”

“Doctors have taken him,” Fernando said, sitting down.

“What happened?” Rob asked, choosing to stand. “Fernando.”

“Do not know,” Fernando muttered. “Was not there. Just got a text to say Felipe was waiting for me in some alleyway, so I went to find him and there he was.”

He’d already explained all this to the police, and he didn’t need Rob interrogating him as well.

Rob ran hand through his hair, looking around the waiting room as if that would give him any answers.

“What was he saying about Valtteri?”

“Valtteri?”

“You said he was talking about Valtteri,” Rob snapped, impatiently. It boiled down to two scenarios: the people who had done this to Felipe had Valtteri, or Valtteri was the one who had done this to Felipe.

“Just said that I had to get Val,” Fernando remembered. “That they had him, or something. Could not understand. He was barely awake.”

They had Valtteri. And there was only one person Rob could think of who ‘they’ could be.

 


	28. Chapter 28

Rob had tried phoning everyone he could think of, but none of them knew where Toto lived. It was stupid. Valtteri had been dating an older guy for Rob didn’t know how long and nobody knew his address.

“This is all my fault,” Rob muttered, sitting beside Fernando in the waiting room with his useless phone in his hands. He should have gone to the police when Felipe told him. Valtteri didn’t know what he was talking about, he couldn’t make a decision like this on his own. If he’d gone to the police, none of this would have happened.

“Could not stop it,” Fernando said, gently, far too out of his depths comforting the social worker.

“I could have,” Rob said. “I should have known this was going to happen.”

“You know who did it?” Fernando asked.

Rob nodded.

“Then you have to go to get this Valtteri, don’t you?” Fernando said. “Guess he is Felipe’s new boyfriend. Saw them together.”

“How long have you been back?” Rob asked, suspiciously. The last thing he needed on top of all this was to have a drug dealer creeping around Felipe again.

Fernando thought about giving a sarcastic answer, winding Rob up a little more, but Rob looked as if he was about to collapse with exhaustion and it wouldn’t be fair. Now wasn’t the time to be getting kicks.

“Saw him at the clinic,” Fernando admitted. “And that has been it. Until now.”

He looked up at Rob, who was nodding quietly, but Fernando couldn’t tell if he was really listening. He swallowed and tried to think of something else to say, turning back to the doors the doctors had taken Felipe through.

“Who did it?” he asked, quietly.

“Valtteri had this… this boyfriend,” Rob explained quietly. “But he was abusing him. Him and his friends drugged him and…” Rob sighed. He really shouldn’t be telling Fernando this. He glanced down at the Spaniard, only to find Fernando looking up at him with wide eyes. “What?”

“What is this guy’s name?” Fernando asked.

“Toto,” Rob said, slowly.

“Toto what?”

“I don’t know,” Rob snapped. “Do you know him?”

“I know _a_ Toto,” Fernando said, slowly.

“I don’t think there are that many Toto’s about,” Rob said. “You’ve sold him the drugs?”

Fernando nodded. “If there is a demand, I supply,” he mumbled, quietly, turning away from Rob.

Rob stared at him, unable to believe what he was hearing.

“Do you know where he lives?”

“Client confidentiality.”

“ _Confidentiality_?” Rob snapped, realising a little too late how loud he was. “Do you realise what you’ve done? What they’re going to do to Valtteri? Where are they?”

 

“We should film it,” Nico said, watching Valtteri sit in the corner, wiping his eyes. Valtteri just kept gulping and trying to stop crying because it was over now, or at least for now, and he already had a headache and crying was only making it worse. It wasn’t working. Nico cocked his head, still watching Valtteri, and smiled. “What do you think, Valtteri? We could film it, send it Felipe. I bet he would enjoy it.”

“Let Felipe go,” Valtteri mumbled.

“He goes when we’re satisfied,” Nico said.

Valtteri turned to Toto, expectantly. Nico had used him. Lewis had used him. Toto hadn’t looked at him yet. He still wasn’t looking at him.

“Pub?” Lewis suggested.

“Have we run out of drink?” Toto asked.

“Run out of everything good,” Nico said. “Maybe it would be better to let the kid squirm for a while.”

And finally, _finally_ Toto looked at him. As soon as he did, Valtteri looked away. He couldn’t stand to meet his eye. Not after everything.

“Tie his hands,” Toto said after a moment. “And his legs.”

“Why?” Lewis asked. “It’s not as if he’s going anywhere? Are you Val?”

Valtteri shook his head quickly.

“We’ll just leave him here with a kitchen full of knives,” Toto suggested. “If you want to go to the pub, you tie him up.”

“Is ok,” Valtteri said, quickly as Lewis left the room, muttering something he couldn’t quite here. “I will not do anything. Am not stupid.”

He looked back up at Toto, hopefully, ignoring the way his stomach rolled and forcing himself to keep eye contact for as long as possible. Toto didn’t look at him like he used to. The thing Toto was looking at wasn’t a person.

“Better to be safe than sorry.”

 

Rob sat in his car, watching the house Fernando had given him. He couldn’t tell if there was anybody in there, or if they’d taken Valtteri someplace else. The curtains were drawn tight shut, not that he would have been able to see through them from his car.

The police were on their way but Rob knew from experience that didn’t really mean anything. They’d be here in a couple of hours for all he knew. He was going to have to go in there himself. Getting the courage to do so wasn’t that easy though.

He’d lost his job, not that that mattered anymore. If he wasn’t fired he was going to be forced to quit, and, if he were honest, Rob knew it was the right thing to do. He shouldn’t have let this happen. He could have stopped it, and he’d let it go on and he’d let two people get hurt. He shouldn’t be doing this job.

Rob unlocked his phone again, waiting for a message from Fernando, who’d stayed with Felipe. But there was nothing. Felipe could be dying and God knew what was happening to Valtteri and he should have stopped this.

Just as Rob looked up again, the door to the house he was supposed to watching opened. Rob froze, not entirely sure what he was supposed to do now, and watched the three men leave the house, locking the door behind them. Valtteri wasn’t with them.

This is too good to be true, Rob thought as he got out the car, watching the three men walk away from him. There was a chance that Valtteri’s Toto and Fernando’s Toto weren’t the same person, or they had Valtteri somewhere else, or there would be other people in there. There was a million and one ways this wasn’t as good as it seemed to be, but Rob was still heading towards the house with no plan. He just needed to get Valtteri out of there.

 

Valtteri looked up at the noise, not entirely sure if he’d imagined it or not. He couldn’t see the front door from where he was sat, but he was sure that was where the noise was coming from. They couldn’t be back already. He’d barely closed his eyes. He couldn’t have fallen asleep.

And then there was another bang, and Valtteri was sure it was coming from the door, someone banging against it.

Valtteri gulped, moving as far as he could, but he still couldn’t see out into the hallway. There was someone trying to get in. A rescue.

On the third attempt, the door opened, slamming into the wall behind it and making the entire house shake.

“Valtteri?”

Rob. Rob had come to rescue him.

“In here,” Valtteri called, hopefully.

Rob had come to rescue him.

The Brit stuck his head around the doorway into the living room before rushing to Valtteri’s side.

“Shit, it’s ok. I’m going to get you out of this. Don’t worry. Are you ok?”

Valtteri nodded, struggling to hold back tears, and let Rob unwind the tape that held his wrists together. He was safe now. Rob had come to rescue him.

“No,” Valtteri said, quickly, realising what that meant. “No, I can’t go. Rob, they have Felipe and I have to stay here so they let him go and I can’t let them hurt him anymore. Rob, just leave, before they come back.”

It was only going to make things worse for Felipe if Toto and the others found Rob here, and for him too. Rob needed to leave.

“It’s ok,” Rob said, quickly, pulling the last of the tape from his hands. “We’ve got Felipe. He’s at the hospital. He’s going to be ok.”

“You… he’s ok?”

“He’s ok,” Rob insisted, even though he hadn’t even seen Felipe yet, and there was still no news from Fernando. Rob began unwrapping the tape from around Valtteri’s legs, the sound of sirens faint in the distance. “That’ll be the police.”

“Police?”

“I phoned them,” Rob said, throwing the tape aside. “It’s ok. You’re safe now.”

 


	29. Chapter 29

“There are some people who’d like to see you,” the nurse said with a smile. “Should I bring them in?”  
Felipe sat up, drugged up to his eyes to keep the pain away, he guessed. His face still felt a little numb – he could see the swollen cheek at the bottom of his vision, but it wasn’t causing him any pain anymore – so he just nodded.   
It would probably be the police, he reasoned. He didn’t know what to expect from Fernando, if he’d actually understood the message or anything, but the police were bound to have to make a visit here, the state he had come in with.   
The nurse left and returned a couple of moments later with two men Felipe had thought he would never see in the same room as one another.  
Rob smiled at the look of shock on Felipe’s face, seating himself in the chair beside Felipe’s bed. Fernando stood at the end of the bed, a relieved smile on his face.  
“Look at you,” Rob said, gently shaking Felipe’s arm to get him to look at him. “Scaring us all.”  
“They have Valtteri,” Felipe said, quickly. Rob would know what to do. Rob would go and find Valtteri and put a stop to whatever it was they were doing. It was probably too late. Felipe had no idea how long he’d been in the hospital. But they had to try. “Tried to stop them, Rob, but couldn’t. They have Valtteri and you have to go and get him, because I don’t know what they’re doing.”  
“It’s ok,” Rob laughed, getting a strange sense of déjà vu. “Valtteri’s ok. He’s at the hospital. They’re making sure he’s ok.”  
Felipe stared at Rob for a couple of seconds, trying to see if he was hiding anything from him, then turned to Fernando. The Spaniard just nodded and Felipe didn’t know why he trusted Fernando more than Rob, but he got the feeling Fernando wouldn’t lie to keep him happy.  
“What did they do to him?” Felipe asked, turning back to Rob.   
“He’s ok,” Rob insisted with a tired smile.  
“Tell me what they did to him, Rob,” Felipe demanded. “I need to know.”  
“I don’t know,” Rob said. “He hasn’t told me. He wants to see you, though. Maybe he’ll come and tell you when he’s finished.”  
Felipe could only think the worse. After what had already happened, there was no chance that they hadn’t done the worst. He gulped back tears. Crying in front of Rob was fine, but he knew better than to do so in front of Fernando.  
Rob saw the look and smiled apologetically. “Fernando?”  
Fernando seemed to understand. “I’ll go… get some coffee?”  
Rob nodded, watching him go.  
“Did you go to get him?” Felipe asked.  
“Fernando?” Rob asked, confused. “He was the one who found you.”  
“I meant Valtteri, idiot.”  
“Oh,” Rob said, huffing a laugh and hoping Felipe would smile with him. “Oh, yeah. Yeah I did.”  
“This is all my fault,” Felipe mumbled. “Should never have fallen for their stupid trick in the first place. Am such an idiot.”  
“No, don’t be silly,” Rob said, gently. “None of this is your fault.”  
Tears rolled past Felipe’s swollen features and when Rob wiped them he winced.  
“If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine,” Rob said. “We should have known what was going on with Toto ages ago. We should have stopped it.”  
“Could not have known,” Felipe mumbled. “Valtteri didn’t even know.”  
“We should have figured it out,” Rob said, gently. He took hold of Felipe’s hand again, covering it in both of his before gently brushing his lips against the bandaged knuckles. “I’m quitting.”  
“You’re what?”  
“Quitting,” Rob said. “I shouldn’t be doing this job. Not when I’ve let something like this happen.”  
“Love your job,” Felipe said.   
“But if I’m letting people get hurt, then I can’t do it,” Robs said. “Someone better needs to. And… and this way, we can be together, can’t we?”  
He smiled, brushing his thumb over Felipe’s bandage covered knuckles again and again. Once again there was a silver lining to this cloud. Felipe just stared at him, trying to find the right words but his head hurt too much to think. The pain killers must have been wearing off or something like that.   
“I’m sorry,” Rob said, gently, when Felipe didn’t reply. The smile was still on his face, as if he’d just found the answer to a question they’d been asking for years. “I’m sorry for letting you go and I’m sorry for letting this happen, but I will make that up to you, Felipe. I promise.”  
“Do not have to,” Felipe said, quietly, shaking his hand.  
“I want to,” Rob said. “I know things are bad and I’ve screwed up. I know I’ve screwed up. But I’m making it better.”  
“Do not want you,” Felipe said.  
“What?”  
“Have moved on, Rob,” Felipe said, quietly, taking his hand back from the Brit. “Said we could only be friends, so now we are friends. Cannot take that back because you are getting sacked.”  
“Is this because of Valtteri?” Rob asked.  
“Is because of you,” Felipe said.  
“I love you.”  
“And I loved you,” Felipe said. “But when you say we could only be friends, I moved on, Rob. Thought you did the same.”  
“Yeah,” Rob said, nodding wiping his eyes on the back of his hand. “Yeah, sure.”  
Felipe gulped again. Rob was smiling but he clearly wasn’t happy. That wasn’t the answer he had been hoping for, but it was the only one Felipe could give.  
“Should check on Valtteri,” Felipe said. “Am not going anywhere. Make sure he’s ok.”

“I just wanted make sure Felipe was ok,” Valtteri said. He didn’t look at either of the police officers, burning a hole into the floor. He sat on the edge of the bed, gently kicking his legs.   
“We understand,” one of the officers said.   
“Is that all?” Valtteri asked. He was pretty sure he’d covered everything.  
“Yes, that’s it,” the officer said with a smile, patting Valtteri’s knee. “We’ll probably have to come back and talk to you again after we’ve spoken to the other parties.”  
“You mean Toto, Nico, and Lewis?”  
“Yes,” the officer said. “And Mr Smedley, Mr Massa, the other witnesses.”  
“But I can go now?” Valtteri asked, looking up. He needed to make sure Felipe was ok. He hadn’t seen the Brazilian yet and there was a chance Rob had just made it all up to get him out of the house.  
“You can go now,” the officer said. “There are people you can talk to, you know?”  
“I know,” Valtteri said. “I don’t want to talk to anyone.”  
“Some people find it helps.”  
“I don’t want to,” Valtteri said again. “I need to see my friend.”

Felipe looked up when the door opened, a smile fluttering onto his face when he realised it wasn’t Rob come to apologise to him again. Valtteri stood in the door way, staring at Felipe and trying to think of something to say.  
“Sorry,” he said eventually.  
“Sorry?” Felipe asked, confused.  
“Should have spoken to Toto when he came around,” Valtteri said. “None of this would have happened.”  
“This is not your fault, Valtteri,” Felipe insisted. “Come here.”  
Valtteri tried to smile, but it just made his cheeks ache. He sat in the chair beside Felipe’s bed, still not able to stop staring at him.  
You did this.  
“I’m fine,” Felipe said, laughing at the look of horror on Valtteri’s face. “Is just cuts and bruises.”  
“Does not look like it,” Valtteri said.  
“Am fine,” Felipe insisted, taking hold of Valtteri’s hand. “And you… you are fine?”  
Valtteri went to nod. Of course he was fine. He was always fine.   
But this was Felipe he was talking to.  
“No,” he said, quietly, the tears he’d been holding in since the police arrived falling again. He squeezed his eyes shut and, on feeling an arm over his shoulders, fell into Felipe’s embrace. He wasn’t fine and he wasn’t ok and he didn’t think he was ever going to be ok again.


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two and a half years later.

There were two things Valtteri actually liked about the Saturday night pop up restaurant. The first was that it was the perfect excuse to get him out of drinks with the other hotel workers (“I cannot be hung over and help Felipe prep for service, can I?”). The second was the beam on Felipe’s face when he poked his head through from the kitchen in Rob’s house in the lull before the desert orders came in.

Valtteri watched him from across the makeshift dining room, a smug smile on his face, but looked away as soon as Felipe glanced in his direction, hurrying off to take the desert orders.

 

“Four… four… three point five… four… four point five…”

Valtteri flicked each review card at Felipe, who was sat opposite him, hiding behind his hands with a grin on his face.

“Of course, are mostly complimenting the amazing waiting service,” Valtteri said, putting the cards down.

“Of course,” Felipe said, managing to take his hands away from his eyes. He couldn’t stop grinning and this – _this ­_ – was probably Valtteri’s favourite bit of service. They’d let the other voluntary waiting staff leave early, and Rob wasn’t due back for another half an hour. It was just the two of them.

“Thank you,” Felipe said, after sitting, grinning stupidly at the cards, for a few minutes.

“What for?” Valtteri asked. “Know I was joking, right. Am probably why none of these cards say five.”

“For everything,” Felipe said, holding Valtteri’s hand across the table, and now he was grinning stupidly at him.

The pop up restaurant was Valtteri’s idea. Felipe was getting nowhere in the restaurant, no matter how much he tried and Valtteri had decided a few months ago that it was time for Felipe to actually get a step on this ladder Rob kept going on about.

“We should get this place tidied up,” Valtteri said, standing. His face was the same colour as a tomato, but Felipe knew better than to point that out. He sat, watching the Finn collect plates for a couple of moments before standing himself. He slipped his hands around Valtteri’s waist, resting his forehead against the Finn’s shoulder. Valtteri sighed, pretending to be annoyed, put the plates down, and turned to face Felipe. “We should get this place tidied up,” he said again, his hands on Felipe’s hips.

“Hmmm,” Felipe said, the smile on his face still growing. “Or could just wait until when Rob gets back so he can help too. Should enjoy the time we have alone.”

“Have plenty of time alone when we are at home,” Valtteri laughed, taking Felipe’s hands away from him. “Sooner we are finished cleaning up, sooner we can leave.”

Felipe rolled his eyes. Who would have thought Valtteri would be the responsible one in the relationship?

“Fine,” he said, taking the plates Valtteri had left on the table. “But I am washing, you can dry.”

“Think Rob will enjoy his kitchen flooded?” Valtteri asked, following him in. “ _I_ am washing.”

 

When Rob returned home, the review cards were still on the table. He closed the door quietly behind him, flicking through the scrawled handwriting. He was halfway through the pack when a crash and an eruption of giggles came from the kitchen.

“Told you _I_ should do the washing up,” Valtteri was saying as Rob came into the kitchen. Felipe was on the floor, in a puddle of dishwater, crying with laughter.

Rob folded his arms, watching the two of them laugh.

“Have you been drinking?” Rob asked.

“Nope,” Felipe said, trying to stand and just getting himself even wetter.

“No, is like this when he is sober,” Valtteri laughed, giving Felipe a hand up.

Rob looked around the room, at the plates that were still scattered over the side boards and the pans that didn’t look like they were going to be washed this evening.

“How much you make tonight?” he asked. It looked like it had been a busy night.

“Enough,” Felipe said, grinning. “Another few months like this, we will have enough.”

“Enough?” Rob asked.

Felipe and Valtteri shared a mischievous look, silently daring one another to answer.

“What’s going on?” Rob asked. Sometimes he felt like he was looking after a pair of toddlers.

“Are saving for a deposit,” Felipe said. “Renting a bigger house.”

The plan was to get a bigger house, and do the evenings there. And then… Valtteri had plans. Plans he’d only told Felipe about when Felipe was sleeping. Or when he thought Felipe was sleeping.

“Look at you two, then,” Rob said, smiling. “Acting like grown ups.”

“Yep,” Felipe said, proudly.

“Not grown up enough to wash up properly, though,” Rob said, looking at the pool of water on the floor.

“Could help,” Valtteri suggested, offering him a tea towel.

 

Valtteri sat on the edge of the bed, watching Felipe change and chat away about some new starter he wanted to try out. He tried to smile at the Brazilian’s enthusiasm, but now that the rush of the day was over and the adrenaline was gone, real life had hit him.

“So what do you think?” Felipe asked. “Will be lots of testing. Will have you fattened up before we get into the new house.”

“Hmmm,” Valtteri said, but it was clear his thoughts were elsewhere.

“What’s the matter?” Felipe asked, sitting beside Valtteri.

“Got a letter,” Valtteri mumbled. He’d gotten it a couple of days ago, but Felipe already had enough stress with tonight without Valtteri adding on even more stress and panic.

Felipe put an arm around Valtteri, pulling him into a one armed hug. “A letter?”

“Toto.”

“Oh,” Felipe said, stiffening a little. He’d thought the letters had stopped. When Valtteri hadn’t gotten one the month before, or the month before that, he’d thought Toto had given up. But apparently not. “What did it say?”

“Do not know,” Valtteri said. “Did not read it. Is gone.”

“Good,” Felipe said, pressing a kiss to Valtteri’s temple and letting the Finn rest his head on his shoulder.

The letters would be no good. When Valtteri had first told him about them, Felipe had thought it might be Toto asking for forgiveness or something. Some kind of scheme to make the offender realise how they had effected their victims. But no. It was very clear Toto had no remorse. Getting Valtteri to believe everything that had happened wasn’t his fault was difficult enough without Toto’s input.

“Cannot listen to him, Val,” Felipe said, rubbing his arm. “Nothing he says is true.”

“Know this,” Valtteri said, even though he knew Felipe didn’t believe that. He wasn’t sure he believed himself.

“Good,” Felipe said. “Because it is not true, you know? None of what happened was your fault. Owed him nothing. Still owe him nothing.”

“Are right,” Valtteri said, pulling his head away from Felipe’s shoulder to nod. “Does not stop me thinking though.”

Nothing could stop him thinking it. He’d tried the counselling, tried talking to somebody, tried getting help, and it worked. A little. But none of it went far enough.

“Know this,” Felipe said, gently, pulling Valtteri back into the hug. “And is nothing we can do but what we are already doing. Know in your head it is not your fault. Just have to keep telling yourself that until it sinks in.”

“And that works?” Valtteri asked, looking up at Felipe. He knew Felipe’s situation with Fernando wasn’t the same as his with Toto, but Felipe had said he’d still had the same thoughts when Fernando had tried to tell him everything that had happened between them had been his fault.

Felipe nodded. “Eventually, it’ll work.”

Valtteri nodded back, taking a deep breath to calm himself down. They were getting there. He just had to carry on.

 

The knocking made Felipe shudder, like it always did. He knew who it was without having to look, the three heavy, ominous knocks enough to let him know. There were a couple of seconds silence, as he sat as still as possible, listening to his heart thump in his chest and hoping it didn’t give him away.

_Don’t let them take me away Mama._

Whoever was knocking, knocked again, and a shout let him know who was there, that he had to open up, that they knew he was there. Felipe cringed, tears pricking at his eyes, and stood, wiping his eyes on the back of his hand,

_Please Mama. Will be a good boy. Promise. Please don’t let them take me away._

How many times had he told Rob this would happen? Felipe had told him again and again that this stupid plan wouldn’t work. These things always came out eventually. They always did. And it was all he deserved too. He should never have gotten behind the wheel of the car. He should never have done any of it in the first place.

_Am your little boy Mama. Cannot do this. Cannot just abandon me, Mama, please._

With shaking hands, Felipe opened the door. Two police officers smiled back at him and Felipe’s legs began to shake as he tried to stop himself from collapsing. He had to remind himself they were just doing their jobs. They were just protecting people.

“Mr Massa. We’d like to ask you some questions about the night of the accident…”

 

When Felipe woke, the bed beside him was empty, the covers thrown off and the sheets still warm. It took a couple of seconds of staring into the darkness to get Felipe’s back into the real world. It was just a dream, he reminded himself.

The bedroom door creaked open, and Valtteri came in holding two mugs. Once he saw that Felipe was awake, he flicked the light open, awkwardly lifting his elbow to do so. He smiled weakly and nodded down to the mugs.

“Thought you would need this,” he said, coming over and handing one of the mugs to Felipe.

“Thank you,” Felipe said quietly, bringing the mug to his nose and breathing in the aroma. Hot chocolate, as had become something like a routine for them.

Valtteri climbed into the bed beside him, putting his own mug down on the bed side table and pulling the duvet up to his chin to fight the cold.

“Sorry,” Felipe said, quietly, judging the drink to be too hot to drink and putting it down too. “You are cold.”

“Am fine,” Valtteri said, shivering. “Are you ok?”

Felipe nodded, fussing around Valtteri and trying to make sure he was warm until the Finn pushed him away.

“Was the usual dream?” Valtteri asked.

Felipe nodded again, taking the mug back into his hands to warm them up.

“Cannot go on like this,” Felipe mumbled. The dreams had been getting less often, he had to admit, but it was still more often than he wanted them to be. He hadn’t spoken to Fernando in over two years, the Spaniard disappearing soon after the incident with Toto and everyone, but there was still the fear that he would come back, waving his threat about the car crash.

“Is not coming back,” Valtteri insisted.

“Did before.”

“Was a coincidence,” Valtteri said. “Did not come and seek you out. Only stuck around for as long as he did to make you ok.”

He put an arm around Felipe, not just for the added warmth, and the Brazilian curled into him.

“Have told Rob?” Valtteri asked.

Felipe shook his head. It had taken months of waking up with the dream and keeping Valtteri up by doing so for Felipe to tell Valtteri. He couldn’t tell Rob about Fernando. Not whilst Rob was still, unofficially, on trial at work.

“Should tell him,” Valtteri said, softly, watching Felipe drink his hot chocolate. “Know he will be better able to help than I am.”

“Is nothing he can do,” Felipe said, rubbing his eyes and trying not to fall asleep on Valtteri. “Just have to carry on, yes? Like I said.”

“Like you said,” Valtteri said. He’d try to get Felipe to get himself some help eventually. He still wasn’t entirely sure how, but his grand plan didn’t involve a Spanish drug dealer keeping them awake all night.

Felipe put the mug back down on the side before diving back under the duvet, searching for warmth. Valtteri sighed happily and did the same, watching Felipe for a couple of seconds before closing his own eyes.

“Felipe?”

“Yes?”

“We’re ok, aren’t we?”

Felipe opened his eyes again, considering the question for a moment before nodding.

“We are ok.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In reality: the people who inspired the story never met one another but were very important to me. Neither one of their stories had a happy ending.  
> Craig Morrison committed suicide on New Year's Day, 2011. He managed to get his life back on track and worked for the Catch 22 charity, but everything that happened didn't leave his head. He left behind a partner and two young sons. He was my uncle.  
> The person who inspired Valtteri's part would not appreciate me putting their name here, so I won't, but they were a very good friend of mine. They died at the end of last year after struggling with the memories of the events that inspired the story for many years. Valtteri had Felipe, and this person had me, but I couldn't help as much as they needed me to.  
> So, yeah, basically, this story can be considered to have a happy ending.


End file.
